Merry Month of May
by T'Key'la
Summary: Turns out May has been declared a month devoted to self-gratification. How could I resist such a temptation? This is rated M - seriously. And will be about everybody. If the idea of not being the "Master of Your Domain" bothers you, don't read. Thnx.
1. May 1

_A/N: OMG According to **sexuality dot about dot com**, May is Masturbation Month. When I read that, how could I not respond? Seriously! (Also seriously, I have found **about dot com** to be a wonderful resource on many various topics. I didn't know they had a section devoted to sexuality, but wow!!)_

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**May 1:**

_God gave us all a penis and a brain, but only enough blood to run one at a time. – Robin Williams_

It wasn't the first time Hikaru Sulu was glad that the showers in the Officers' gym were private, complete with locks. It also wasn't the first time he had taken advantage of the privacy they offered. Nor was it the first time he had had to seek refuge in the locker room after giving a fencing lesson to Pavel Chekov.

With the gods as his witness, Sulu's first ever loss to Pavel was not intentional. He had just been…distracted. By the graceful way Pavel thrust and parried. The way his hips flexed when he was in the middle of an advance-lunge. How could he not be distracted? No one had the right to look so appealing and beckoning while executing a Passata-sotto while Sulu's blade whizzed harmlessly over the top of the blonde curls so carefully protected by his helmet. To be so innocently alluring was an unfair advantage, and Sulu was certain that had there been a human judge scoring the match, Pavel would have been immediately disqualified.

As it was, the electronic scorekeeper announced that Pavel had landed a fatal blow, and Sulu accepted his defeat gracefully. And gratefully. In truth, he could barely contain himself until he reached the locker room and the showers where he could take care of the source of his distraction in blissful privacy.

He stood as still as he possibly could under the steaming water, not wanting to risk detection. Surely if anyone saw him moving his feet more than one would normally during the course of a shower, they would know the reason why. His hands, however, were safe from curious eyes and were therefore far busier than would be expected in any instance, except for this one. Sulu also concentrated on not making _any_ noise, except for the rushing of the blood in his ears. He was pretty sure if anyone was in the vicinity of the showers, they wouldn't hear that particular sound, as loud as it was to him.

With experienced hands and mental images he would never admit to having, at least not until he was sure the _object_ of those desires was receptive to his thoughts, it wasn't long before the evidence of his success was being washed down the shower drain with the soap that had assisted his efforts. He took several deep breathes, turning his face up to the hot water hoping that if he encountered anyone once outside the shower, they would assume his face was glowing from the effects of the water.

Drying off slowly, to give himself time to recover and re-center, he finally stepped out of the shower. As much as he wanted to, he forced himself not to retreat when he found Pavel patiently waiting for him, sitting on the bench across from their lockers.

"Hey," Hikaru said, congratulating himself on sounding almost nonchalant.

"You vant to get something to eat?" Pavel asked with his typical sunny smile.

"Uhm…sure," Hikaru said, clearing his throat and wishing Pavel's smile hadn't reheated certain sections of his anatomy. "Why don't you go ahead? Since you're already ready. And then I'll be there soon."

"I do not mind the vaiting," Pavel said with a shrug. "It vill not be so long for you to be ready."

"Okay," Hikaru agreed, careful to keep his back to Pavel. It was a relief when Chekov started talking about a transmission he had gotten from his mother back home, sharing all those things every family went through, no matter where they lived. When Hikaru was finally dressed and ready to face Pavel, he closed his locker and turned to him with a nod. "Alright. Let's go eat."

"You are not vanting the shoes?" Chekov asked with a smile, looking at Sulu's bare feet.

"Oh," Sulu responded. And all he could think was 'busted.' "Yeah."


	2. May 2

**May 2**

_The only thing about masturbation to be ashamed of is doing it badly. - Sigmund Freud_

Spock woke with a start. As his breathing slowed, he concentrated on listening for signs of danger to the ship. No, that was not what had woken him. There was no one in his quarters with him. The cause of his alarm was internal.

A dream. _Vulcans do not dream_, he reminded himself quite sternly. But that did not register with his subconscious self, the one that had shown him multiple images of …. _No_. _Kroykah._

Spock left his disheveled bed and crossed over to the bathroom, rinsing his face with cooling water. He stared at the reflection in the mirror, an image he barely recognized. While he did not require as much sleep as did the Humans aboard the ship, six consecutive nights of interrupted slumber was starting to put a strain on even his control.

Leaving the bathroom, he crossed back over to his sleeping area, lighting his meditation idol. It had offered no respite the previous five nights but perhaps this would be the time he would be able to contain those thoughts that came unbidden into his sleep.

Using the meditation techniques that were as old as his people, he found a level of calm that was restful, almost peaceful. Almost. Easing the tension out of his taut muscles gave his mind a chance to concentrate on those disquieting ideas that had been tormenting him, waking him, prodding him relentlessly.

_Examine this logically, _a voice reminiscent of one of his first teachers said. _What is the source of these discordant thoughts? What must be done to eliminate them? _Spock turned these questions over in his mind, examining them from all angles. No matter what approach he took, the answer to the first question remained constant: James Kirk. The answer to the second was more difficult. That question spawned more: _Should he request reassignment? Should he resign and go to New Vulcan? Should he admit how he felt?_

_No_ was the answer to each of those. _No_ he could not even consider leaving the Enterprise or the service of her Captain. Which meant he had to find a way to contain his rampant thoughts, wants…desires.

Contain them. _Or dispense with them? _Spock considered the two alternatives and admitted that the concept of containment was a complete failure. Would dispensing with at least the physical manifestations assuage some of the mental turmoil? Was self-gratification the Vulcan way? Did it matter at this point?

Emerging from his state of meditation, Spock extinguished the fire in the idol, wishing it were so easy to distinguish his own flame. Pushing aside that illogical thought, he returned to bed and lay staring up at the ceiling. Although he had very much enjoyed the relationship he had shared with Uhura, the end of it had also seen the end of his sexual exploits. He was unschooled in self-pleasure but Uhura had been kind enough to assure him that when it came to pleasing women, it was almost impossible to do it wrong. Surely the same could be said about pleasing oneself.

He was loathe to admit to even himself that he had never discovered what he enjoyed, never explored or experimented. It was _not_ the Vulcan way. Sexual urges, while natural, were to be suppressed along with the emotions that inevitably accompanied them. Well, he had suppressed as long as he could stand, and now he was going to try the Human way of coping with wanting the unobtainable.

He allowed his hands to move slowly down his body, recalling the way that Uhura would touch him, caress him. The strokes of his own hands were different but not unpleasant. The fingers he curled around his aching need were… _yes_, this just might be the answer he was seeking.

Using his limited experience as a guide, he quickly found what he enjoyed, and what he really _really_ enjoyed. The last category was more limited but that did not matter to his erection or his mind that was conjuring up mental images to accompany the action between his legs. While he shied away from fantasizing that those hands were not his own, he did allow himself the pleasure of replaying familiar scenes from their daily life – the Captain on the Bridge, calmly giving orders and keeping those around him from giving into panic; the Captain across the table from him as they played chess; the Captain soaked with his own sweat after they had practiced advanced hand-to-hand combat.

_Hand-to-hand combat._ That was the lynchpin. Once he found that image, the rest faded away, leaving the damp blonde curls, the bright pink spots of exertion on his cheeks, the sparking blue of his eyes as he looked up at Spock. Sparkling blue eyes….

Those imaginary eyes were laughing when Spock erupted onto his stomach, instantly releasing the tension that had been straining his muscles and his mind. _Yes, the Human way was definitely preferable_ was his last thought before he drifted off to a deep, peaceful sleep.


	3. May 3

**May 3:**

_"Sex" is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other. ~ Marquis de Sade, L'Histoire de Juliette _

The catwalk was not easily accessible so Scotty knew he would not be interrupted. It was, quite possibly, his favorite place on the Enterprise. The scaffold was suspended over the warp engines, the vibrations they produced echoing through the platform and through his body. He knew that most people thought the hum of the engines monotonous, one droning note. In fact they pulsed like a heart beat.

That heart beat was filling him with peace and tranquility. The Captain had avoided any injury being inflicted to Scotty's ship for over a month. Every cog was in its place and Scotty could relax knowing the Enterprise was shipshape and Bristol fashion. And he could allow himself the luxury of laying on his back on the catwalk, staring up at the arched ceiling of the engine room, his pants pushed down around his knees.

He had never before indulged in this particular pleasure in this location but he was feeling so peaceful and _at-one_ with his ship, he couldn't help but allow that synergy to find a physical outlet. Sure, he knew there were those who would speculate he'd gone completely around the bend, if anyone ever got wise to his secret. But then he didn't put any stock in what others thought of him. He sure wasn't concerned about any rumors that might be spread, that he had finally lost the last of his marbles somewhere beneath the mammoth engines that kept the Enterprise aloft in the far reaches of space.

The pleasure he received from feeling the heart beat of his engines throughout his relaxed body made it natural to caress his erection in concert with the ship's pulse. Stroking himself in time with its cadence felt wholly natural, the pleasure nearly equal to that he received from making love with someone capable of reciprocating. Not that anyone aboard spared him a second look. And he couldn't begrudge them their opinions. _Eccentric_ as a description didn't do him justice. But still - if given the chance, he wouldn't object to a roll in the hay with a bonny lass. Or lad. He held no preference as to species or gender so long as the parts worked together in harmony and pleasure was to be had by both parties.

He closed his eyes as the tension built in his body, absorbing the song that the Enterprise sang just for him. Smooth, rhythmic, sensual. Pulsing with energy. Soothing him while bringing him ever closer to the edge of his personal bliss.


	4. May 4

**May 4:**

_"Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." -William Shakespeare_

_Inspired by and dedicated to Lyricoloratura. You know I love you. (And happy anniversary.)_

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Things had been crazy in Sick Bay. Not that _crazy_ on Jim Kirk's ship was anything new. But this may have gone past even their standard version of crazy. What with away teams being pursued by angry natives and emergency beam-ups directly to sick bay and Dr. McCoy contracting the Kriosian flu, Nurse Chapel had had _no_ time to tend to necessary, personal chores. Like laundry. She couldn't recall the last time she'd had the opportunity to send her underthings to the laundry. Or even rinse them out herself. Working double shifts and squeezing in a few hours of sleep left no time for laundering.

That morning her alarm went off far too early, surely only minutes after she had gone to sleep. She finally stumbled out of the shower and over to her dresser, rummaging through the top drawer. Pushing aside slips and pajama tops and a bathing suit she didn't remember buying, she discovered that there were no panties. None.

With a resigned sigh, she opened the second drawer, the "only in emergencies" drawer. It held tattered remains of what were once perfectly acceptable pajamas, a slip with only one strap left, and one, solitary pair of underwear. She stared at those remaining panties, stunned. She thought she had thrown those away years ago. Really – what were they doing back in her drawer? To her dismay, the lone survivor in the emergency underwear stash were these - flimsy pink and white vibrating remote-control panties, not that she had purchased, but that she had gotten years ago as a gag gift at a friend's bridal shower.

A quick glance at her clock was all it took to persuade her to pull on the panties. What difference did it make what their intended purpose was? They were fairly modest for all their suggestiveness. And the controller was long since lost rendering them harmless. It was wear these panties or none at all. And since the Neanderthals responsible for designing the Starfleet nurses' uniforms had never bothered to ask a working woman what her uniform needed to look like, not wearing underwear was in no way an option.

After drying her hair in a flash, she hurried to sick bay, sure she could get coffee from Dr. McCoy's dispenser. He was recovering in his quarters under the watchful of the Captain and most of the Command Crew. In rotation. So the dear doctor could only grouse at them individually.

She quickly became immersed in the slightly chaotic routine of the sick bay, listening to Dr. M'Benga tell the technicians what needed to be done first; dispatching her nurses to take care of the patients in order of necessity; checking the charts from the overnight shift to make certain that everything was in proper order.

It was just over an hour after the start of her shift that there was hard, sharp jolt to the ship, everyone losing their balance momentarily until gravitational controls were reestablished. As they were regaining their feet, another jolt disengaged the artificial gravity for several seconds, long enough for those not holding on to a solid object to float practically to the ceiling. It was not surprising to anyone when each of the airborne crew landed with a thud.

Controlled chaos erupted. The medical staff was swiftly checked over for injury, bumps and bruises the most serious conditions. M'Benga demanded from the Bridge to know what had happened and would it continue to occur? Commander Spock, in his typical calm fashion, informed them that they had been briefly under attack but their assailant had been destroyed.

The rest of the conversation was cut off when injured crew began to filter in. Broken arms. Fractured ankles. Concussions. Broken ribs and clavicles. M'Benga prioritized the injured, dispatching Christine to recovery room 6 where the largest bone mender was housed. She would work on the legs. Other nurses would use portable osteogenerator to mend arms and ribs and smaller fractures.

The first patient entrusted to Christine's care was one of Scotty's engineers, that cute Lieutenant Erick Orlens. He was trying his very best to be brave but a fractured tibia hurt like hell. No use pretending otherwise, she assured him as he climbed onto the biobed, aided by one of the technicians who then hurried out to help someone else.

Erick lay down and closed his eyes, trying to remember to breathe.

"I know it really hurts, Erick," Chris soothed as she moved the mender over the fracture after scanning his leg. "It will be healed soon. And the doctor will be able to prescribe a pain reliever as soon as he reviews your records."

He nodded beneath the arm he had flung over his eyes, not trying to talk, saving his breath.

"Okay. I'm going to start. You're going to feel some heat. But that's natural. And let me know if it starts to feel like too much," Christine said.

He nodded again.

Wishing there was something more she could do than take his hand into hers, she started the bone mender. The moment she pressed the switch, she gasped. _Oh dear gods._ Activating the mender had set off her… _dear sweet lord_. Her panties were…_oh dear gods. _The frequencies were the… _ohhhh_…. exactly…_uhmmm_….the _ssssammmmme_.….

"Nurse Chapel," Erick was saying, trying to take his hand back before she crushed his fingers. "Christine. Are you okay?"

She looked down at him with huge eyes, her breathing uneven and shallow. "_Uhmm_…" She swallowed, fighting back the waves of sensation that started between her legs and coiled out through the rest of her body.

Had she known that this was the effect to be had by wearing vibrating panties, she might not have thrown out that controller. And now she had a very urgent problem to solve. _In the name of all that was holy_…what was she going to do? There was no possible way to ignore the fact that the entire world was distilled down to what was happening inside those innocent looking panties.

She couldn't leave sick bay. She couldn't take them off. And she couldn't turn off the mender. _Sweet saints above._ Erick was staring at her in a mix of awe and terror. She wondered briefly how many regulations she would violate by joining him on the biobed. Or joining with him.

She could not stop a slightly hysterical laugh from bubbling up and out. Erick's eyes got even wider although she didn't think that could have been possible. "I'm sorry," she finally gasped, giggling even though she knew it was entirely inappropriate. "I'm sorry."

All Erick could do was stare up at her. Her cheeks were bright pink. Her eyes were huge. And her hips…should they be moving like that? He was pretty sure the only other time he had ever seen a woman's hips swivel like…that was when they were….well, uhm… "Nurse Chapel?" he said again, unconsciously licking his suddenly parched lips.

She continued to giggle, unable to stop as hard as she tried, her hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle her laughter. And it was with a guilty start that she looked over at the door as it opened to admit Dr. M'Benga. "Doctor," she laughed.

"Christine," he responded, looking only at the padd in his hand. "How it's going, Erick?"

"A lot better for Christine than for me," he said slightly breathless.

M'Benga looked up from his padd, staring at Erick before turning his attention to Christine, who was trying very hard to look professional and to stand still. She was pretty sure she had doubly failed. "Christine?"

"I'm…_uhmm_…sorry, Doctor. I need to …._uhm_…excuse myself… temporarily," she said, giggling despite herself. "The mender has been activated for…_uhm_… two minutes and…." She could not finish. She could not speak. All she could do was stand there in front of them, quivering while pretending that the panties had not just done what they were designed to do. And she really hoped that all the moisture her body produced would not short them out and electrocute her. That would be a hell of an injury to try and explain.

But at that moment, she didn't much care about any of that. Because she remained in the room only physically. Mentally she was some place altogether different. And she really _really_ liked it there.


	5. May 5

**May 5:**

_An erection is like the Theory of Relativity - the more you think about it, the harder it gets. ~Author Unknown_

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It wasn't just that he was miserable. It was that he had been miserable for a week. And there was exactly nothing that could be done about it. Contracting Kriosian flu meant he hadn't been on duty in sick bay for eight days. Two more days and he could finally be released from his quarters. He knew he had no choice. And at least he wasn't quarantined. That would have been even worse. Having visitors helped take his mind off the ache that settled into his bones and joints, making it equally painful to lay down or sit up. The pain had finally begun to diminish on day seven, just like he knew it would. But he still ached more than he would have liked and his appetite hadn't completely returned.

Typical with the Kriosian flu, parts of him weren't functioning at peek performance. His brain still felt like it was at least partially wrapped in gauze, and his taste buds were numb, accounting for his inability to eat. These he knew to be ordinary under the circumstances but no less trying to his almost non-existence patience.

What hadn't gone out of commission was his libido. For reasons he had never been able to discover, no matter how many medical databases he consulted, Kriosian flu increased a man's propensity for spontaneous arousal.

He was in the process of trying to relieve the most recent Kriosian Gift when he heard the doors to his quarters open.

"Hey Bones," Jim's bright voice said as he crossed over to the bed, not sounding the least bit apologetic about using his override to waltz right on in uninvited.

"Uhnn…" Bones responded, rocking slowly, his back still to the room, his covers up to his neck.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine."

"Everything okay?" Jim asked. Bones could hear the concern in his voice but wasn't sure he was in any position, mentally or physically, to respond at that moment. "Bones?"

"Give me a minute."

"What? Why?" Jim asked, his alarm growing.

Bones sighed and rolled slowly onto his back to gaze up at Jim. "I am in the middle of something."

"Of what?"

Bones continued to look up at him, his eyes growing wider, his free hand pointing at his discarded pajama bottoms.

"Ohhh…" Jim said, the light finally starting to dawn. "So it's true what they say about Kriosian flu?"

"Yeah. You could come back in five minutes," McCoy suggested gruffly.

"I could stay and give you a hand," Jim laughed.

"No. Absolutely not. I got it covered. If you'll get out."

Jim laughed again, shaking his head. "Five minutes long enough?"

"Yeah. Or would have been. Better make it ten now."

"Fine. You need anything? Lube? A Kleenex? Porn?"

"For you to get out," McCoy said, his right hand still around his erection as he allowed his eyes to drift closed.

"Ten minutes," Jim said, leaving with a laugh.

McCoy sighed when the door closed behind Jim, glad it was his best friend that had walked in on him. Of course, come to that, no one else would have walked in without an invitation. Oh well. No harm no foul, McCoy decided as he continued to caress himself beneath the covers.


	6. May 6

**May 6:**

_A/N: This is going to be a little complicated, so stick with me. This chapter was inspired by "Tales of a Security Chief" by bookdragon01. I love that story! And I fell in love with her Sam Giotto. When I started writing Merry Month of May, I asked bookdragon01 if I could borrow her Sam for one of my chapters. I promised I'd return him unharmed and with a smile on his lips. _

_bookdragon01 graciously agreed to my request. Then she wrote "Chapter 9: Having Another Go." I was even more in love with Sam. So I asked her if it would be okay if I wrote my MMM chapter as a sequel to her chapter 9. At first she was a little hesitant, then she reconsidered my request. Not only did she decide a Merry Month sequel to "Having Another Go" would be a fine idea, she even started it for me!!! The first four paragraphs below are hers. The rest is mine. Doesn't she totally rock? In so many ways?? Seriously!_

_If you haven't read "Tales of a Security Chief" you'll want to! I think this chapter will make more sense once you do. And it is a totally awesome story!!!_

_And thanks bookdragon01!!_

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_I regret to say that we of the FBI are powerless to act in cases of oral-genital intimacy, unless it has in some way obstructed interstate commerce. ~ J. Edgar Hoover_

_~0~_

Sam poured himself a shot of gin. Normally he didn't drink while working, but this definitely called for an exception. He'd been up for the last several hours modifying Rule One response scenarios to account for the Captain's rather unique solution of driving off a group bullies by coming onto them. All things considered, he really should have handed some of this off to his assistants, but he had honestly been afraid to see what Dan and Phil might come up with.

For the first hour, he'd laughed through most of it, picturing all the people he knew likely to take a shot at a similar approach running up against a completely different reaction on the part of their adversaries. (He almost hoped the Captain would try it again. He really wanted to see Kirk's face when a Klingon gave him a bedroom smile and grabbed his crotch).

However, by the second hour, imagining all those scenarios was starting to get to him. He was old enough to be a father to most the people on the ship, but they were young, beautiful people, and getting into the heads of his sim characters required noticing that. Big mistake.

Whenever he was finally done, it was going to take the rest of this bottle plus maybe a few others to erase the images and ideas running through his head right now (and having an entirely predictable affect on his _other_ head). Normally he dealt with this sort of thing with a good workout, but there was frankly no way he was walking to the gym at this hour...

.  
A workout in the _gym_ was not what he really wanted at any rate. Being responsible for the safety of the entire crew meant that his opportunities for a workout of a different sort were not readily available. He'd known more than one Security Chief who had been demoted because of inappropriate fraternization. How could you maintain your objectivity and your sworn duty to protect the entire crew when everyone knew you were _favoring_ one crewmember in the privacy of your quarters? It wasn't that you had to swear to celibacy when you swore your oath as Security Chief. But you did have to have sense enough to pick and choose when and with whom you fraternized.

Maybe it was his lack of fraternization that was making the mental images of the crew so potent. More potent than his gin, the gin he had confiscated from one of the underage crewmembers. It didn't matter if he was a genius and "mature for his age." You still had to be 18 to legally possess any kind of alcohol, even wodka, and Sam was responsible for enforcing those regulations as well.

But what did _that_ matter? His current activity had painted images in his head that the confiscated gin was not erasing. And he was frankly too tired to work any longer on the programming. Since he knew he wasn't going to be able accomplish anything further, he finally shut down his computer. After briefly debating whether or not to bother with a shower, he wearily stripped off his uniform and crawled between his cool sheets.

"Lights off," he said, the computer complying immediately. As he lay staring into the complete darkness, the simulations he had previously imagined replayed as clearly as if they were a holovid. Uhura besting the Klingons. Sulu defeating the Tellurites before they knew what hit them. The Captain trying his own brand of _diplomacy_ on the Kaylar warriors.

Why was he doing this to himself? He should be trying to forget those surprisingly suggestive images. Instead they seemed determined to taunt him.

He sighed to himself and reached down with a calloused hand to grip his shaft. What was the point of even pretending to himself that surrender to his basic needs wasn't inevitable? Sure, he was Chief of Security. But he wasn't a warrior monk.

His body responded favorably to the engagement of flesh on flesh, his resistance to the idea crumbling as the sensations flourished. It felt good not to have to battle to maintain his control, to allow his wonton desires to have dominion over his body.

It did feel wrong to use one of the crew as the object of his desire. So he used all of them. He merged them and combined them until he could picture a crewmember who was none of them and all of them – this imaginary officer had black hair like Uhura's, sparkling blue eyes like the Captain's, a sensual mouth like Dr. McCoy's, rounded cheeks like Chekov, Sulu's laugh. This combination laughed and winked as Sam got ever closer to achieving his coup de grace.

He counted it a win when his desire exploded in his hand. It was even more of a victory when he was able to fall to sleep immediately, dreaming of battles yet to be engaged by crewmembers who listened and learned and stayed alive because of his lessons.


	7. May 7

**May 7**

_Sex is like a bridge game; if you don't have a good partner, you better have a good hand. ~Woody Allen_

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It was the shift that just would not end. As much work as he had to do, it didn't make the time go any faster. Surely they had already been on duty for the required 8 standard hours. Checking his chronometer, the Captain discovered that no, in fact, only 6 hours had gone by.

He glanced around the Bridge, everyone busy working. Or at least pretending to. Things were unusually calm, a sure sign that hell would be breaking loose at any moment.

Spock sat at his science station, his back as straight as ever but with an additional stiffness to it maybe? Jim had detected a certain amount of frostiness from his First Officer over the past few days but for the life of him he couldn't imagine what it was he had done, or not done, to deserve the Vulcan version of a cold shoulder.

As Jim was trying to sort it out, Spock looked over his shoulder at Jim, one eyebrow raised in question.

"I think I'm going to see if I can catch up on some paperwork," Jim declared, standing. "Mr. Spock, you have the Bridge."

"Of course, sir," Spock agreed, returning his attention to his station.

Jim left the bridge for his quarters, queuing up the dispatches from Starfleet Headquarters. There were six confidential _eyes only_ messages, none of them nearly important enough to warrant their over-exaggerated precautions. He signed off on them as required, forwarding to Spock the three that he was permitted to share.

He was about to turn his attention to the shipwide status reports when he was hailed by engineering. The engineer hesitantly told him that _someone_ had accidentally shorted out three of the communications panels and it would take at least four hours to repair them. After learning that Mr. Scott was working on the forward transporter and was therefore unavailable, Jim when down to engineering to assess the situation and assign the appropriate engineers to effect the repairs. He remained in engineering for several hours to make sure proper protocol was followed and because he was the most senior officer currently available.

Once the repairs were complete, he returned to his quarters to find four intra-ship messages waiting for him. The first was from the Quartermaster explaining that there had been a mix-up at Headquarters and instead of 400 boxes of band-aids, they had received 400 cases of rubber bands. No one needed that many rubber bands and they still didn't have the band-aids Dr. McCoy required.

Jim spent 45 frustrating minutes and several minutes of satisfactory yelling before he got the idea through to someone at Headquarters that no, they could not staunch the flow of blood with rubber bands but thanks for the suggestion.

The next message was from Lt Sulu apologizing and telling him it was entirely unintentional. Five minutes of rambling preceded Sulu finally admitting that Botany Lab three had flooded and some of the specimens had almost been ruined. Rather than try and figure out what happened long distance, Jim went to the lab to survey the damage. It was substantial and would take several technicians working multiple hours to correct. Jim ordered the appropriate personnel to report to the Botany Lab and he left Spock in charge. From the lab he went to check on the repairs to the transporter that were taking much longer than had been anticipated.

Well after 1 in the morning, he made it back to his quarters where all he could do was fumble out of his clothes and lay down on his bed. Reviewing the day's events was his usual custom as he waited for sleep to over take him, but this night, his entire focus seemed to be on Spock. The Vulcan filled his every thought. Which was as intriguing as it was frustrating. Why was he suddenly able to only think about his First Officer? And why did entirely inappropriate images filter through his brain unbidden? AND why did those images go straight to his cock and make it hard?

Well, a nightly erection was nothing new to Jim and he reached down to enjoy the problem. Several well rehearsed strokes made him even harder and there was a reflective tightening in the muscles of his pelvic regions. His hand picked up speed and his breathing grew faster.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk," the intercom commanded.

Jim jerked his hand away and took a moment to find his composure. He suspected it was beneath his bed along with his discarded boot. "Kirk here," he was finally able to respond, sounding fairly normal.

Lt. Parmeter, who had the Bridge for gamma shift, reported that there was an unexplained anomaly on the long range sensors and did the Captain want to get closer to investigate, or alter course to avoid possibly encountering it?

Jim requested that all the readings they had so far gathered by sent to his cabin where he spent 15 minutes analyzing them. They weren't like anything he'd ever seen before and told the Bridge to approach with caution. Parmeter acknowledged the order and said that they would be within a couple thousand kilometers in six hours. Jim said he would be on the Bridge by then and they should certainly let him know if there was any change to the phenomenon.

That done, he returned to bed and to his interrupted activity. He enjoyed the pleasure that was building throughout his entire body, his erection in stiff approval. As copious amounts of pre-come dripped down his shaft, he knew he was almost there.

"Engineering to Captain Kirk," the intercom demanded.

With a groan, Jim released his need once again and took a deeper breath. "Kirk here," he said, hoping his frustration was hidden. Or at least disguised.

Engineering reported that the short in the communications unit had cascaded down the system and had knocked out the computers on the aft section of levels three through eight, mostly crew quarters. Determining that the repairs could be made by alpha shift, Jim told them to be sure and tell Scotty what they were planning, and disconnected.

Wanting very much to finish what he had started seemingly hours earlier, Jim resumed his caresses, reaching the point of near completion when the intercom stopped him once again.

"Commander Spock to Captain Kirk."

Maybe it wasn't really Spock. Maybe it was the universe taunting him because of his inappropriate imaginings involving his stoic First Officer.

"Yes Mr. Spock?" Jim responded breathlessly.

"Are you well, sir?" Spock asked in his usual even tone.

"I'm just fine. Tired," Jim said. "What can I do for you?"

"We have completed the cleanup of botany lab three."

"Good," Jim responded, wondering if it was really important enough to justify a call at 2:30 in the morning.

"However," Spock said, making Jim's stomach sink. "A portion of the water that flooded the lab leeched through the walls and floors. The replicator mechanism located on the level below was flooded as a result."

"Oh hell," Jim said. "How many dispensers does that replicator operate?"

"All of the forward ones, sir," Spock said.

Jim groaned very quietly. That meant half the ship would be without replicators until the mechanism was fixed. "Where's Scotty?"

"Trying to repair the communications modules, sir."

"All right," Jim sighed. "I'll meet you at the replicators in 10 minutes."

"Yes sir," Spock agreed, disconnecting.

Jim wearily left his bed and put his uniform back on, leaving his quarters and wondering when he would be able to return, and more importantly, return to seeing about his personal _needs…or wants…or fulfillment._


	8. May 8

**May 8**

_We know that more than seventy to eighty percent of women masturbate, and ninety percent of men masturbate, and the rest lie. Joycelyn Elders_

_

* * *

_

He never once had reason to regret joining Starfleet. Or leaving Mother Russia at such a young age. And being assigned to the Enterprise? What more could a 17 year old genius want?

Well, there was one thing – one thing he needed more than wanted. Advice. A sounding board. At his age, most guys were still in high school, gossiping and comparing notes about supposed conquests. He had missed out on all those bull sessions because never once would he admit to anyone at Starfleet Academy that his experience in matters of… uhm…intimacy did not come close to the boasting of the other cadets. When in fact his experience was almost non-existent. Not that he hadn't been propositioned more than his share. But most of those who had asked seemed more interested in "training" him than enjoying themselves. He wasn't a puppy. So no thanks. He'd figure it out, eventually.

"Those are some unhappy thoughts you're havin' there," Dr. McCoy said in his usual gruff but friendly way when he stood next to Chekov in the mess.

Chekov nodded sadly and stared down at his mostly uneaten Vareniky, his favorite traditional dish that Scotty had programmed into the replicators just for him.

"Want to talk about it, son?" McCoy offered, turning a chair backward and sitting across from Chekov. "You know there's nothin' I ain't heard before."

"Da," Chekov agreed absently. He looked up at McCoy then looked around the mostly deserted mess. Leaning closer, his voice quiet, he finally met the Doctor's eyes. "It is sometimes lonely."

McCoy nodded. He had figured it was only a matter of time until he had this conversation with their resident boy genius, the one who was barely old enough to be away from the loving embrace of his family. "You want to come with me to my office? To talk where we won't be interrupted?"

"Da," Chekov agreed only slightly more enthusiastically. He disposed of his tray, following the Doctor to sick bay and into his office. "You are not busy?"

"Not right now. Too much paperwork," McCoy said, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of his desk and indicating that Chekov should sit in the other. "Now, tell me what's going on."

Chekov nodded and stared down at his hands clasped tightly in his lap. McCoy waited more patiently than anyone would have believed possible. Chekov would talk when he was ready. Not before.

"Vhat is normal, sir?" Chekov finally asked quietly.

"Depends on the topic, son," McCoy said. "Normal sleeping. Normal eating. Normal thinking?"

"Normal…man's …needing."

"Are we talkin' erections?" McCoy asked calmly.

Chekov could only nod, his cheeks pink, his breathing a little faster.

"For you, I'd imagine you have trouble not havin' one. Wake up with one. Go to sleep with one. Have them at the most inopportune times," McCoy suggested.

"This is normal?" Chekov asked hopefully.

"Completely normal. It'd be a concern if you didn't. All 17 year olds are subject to spontaneous arousal. Nature's way of making sure the species continues."

"So vhen I am on duty, I do not have reason to be feeling guilty?"

"Absolutely not," McCoy assured him. "They don't last very long, right? And you never neglect your duty because of your state."

"No sir. I vould never allow myself distraction," Chekov hurried to say.

"I know that, son. I wasn't implying you are guilt of dereliction of duty. But you will continue to experience involuntary erections for several more years. Eventually the hormones that control that portion of your anatomy will leave you alone. You'll still be aroused but it will be more intentional."

"So vhen I see Lt. Uhura, it vill not embarrass me?"

"No," McCoy laughed. "That won't ever change. Every member of this crew shares that dilemma."

"Da," Chekov said with a tiny smile. "And with Hikaru?"

"No, son. He's attractive to be sure. But we're aware that he's yours," McCoy said with a wink.

"Mine?" Chekov repeated in some confusion.

"He's smitten with you, Pavel. But he doesn't want to risk scaring you off."

"Scaring?" Pavel repeated, looking at the Doctor with a mix of hope and mild terror.

"How much sexual experience have you had, son?"

"Except with myself, almost none," Chekov admitted, his cheeks bright pink again.

"He knows that. And he doesn't want to risk forcing himself on you if you aren't ready."

"He tells you this?"

"No, Pavel. He doesn't have to. I've seen the way he looks at you. You can be sure he doesn't look at anyone like he looks at you. Not even Nyota," McCoy assured him.

"The Captain?"

McCoy shook his head. "Hero worship. And devotion. Not desire."

"As the Captain looks at Commander Spock," Chekov said.

"Yes, very much like that. Except the Captain doesn't realize it and won't admit it," McCoy said in some exasperation.

"You vill tell him?"

"Probably not. What I really want is to bang their heads together," McCoy said with a sigh. "But that's neither here nor there. You don't need to worry about how you feel. Or how you react. Take care of yourself in the privacy of your own quarters and no one will be the wiser."

"I do…take care, sir. But how much is too much?"

"There's no such thing. And you must know that every being with a pulse masturbates. It's as natural as breathing," McCoy said evenly and warmly.

"Every one?"

"Yes. And those that claim they don't are out and out lying."

Chekov nodded, some measure of tension relaxing out of his body.

"Do you use lubricant? You don't want to have unnecessary chaffing," McCoy said as calmly as if they were discussing getting a cup of coffee.

"Yes sir. I am all equipped," Chekov said.

"Good. Do you have other questions you want to ask me?" McCoy asked in his best fatherly voice.

"How do I tell Hikaru he vill not scare me?" Pavel asked.

"Tell him. Not in words. In actions. Invite him to your quarters for dinner and a movie. Sit too close to him. Touch him spontaneously. Ask him to spend the night."

"And he vill stay?"

"Most probably. If not, don't think he's rejecting you. He just needs to be sure," McCoy said.

"Yes," Pavel said. "Maybe he comes to you to ask?"

"He might," McCoy agreed. "If he does, I'll listen and give him advice. But never would I tell him I had talked to you."

"I know this, sir," Pavel agreed, standing up with a smile. "Thank you, sir."

"You are more than welcome, Pavel. And any time you want to talk, you only have to let me know."

Pavel nodded, leaving with a much lighter step. He liked the Doctor's idea. Invite Hikaru to a movie. But first he had to take care of the fact that his body was also voting a resounding **yes** to those plans.


	9. May 9

**May 9**

_Though we adore men individually, we agree that as a group they're rather stupid. ~ Mary Poppins_

_

* * *

_

Nyota stood under the hot water of her shower, considering all those emotions that were running rampant in her head. Anger. Frustration. Irritation – was that different from anger? Yeah - definitely. Exasperation.

And why were the emotions raining down on her like the water from the shower? Because as was all too often the case, the _men_ on board this starship had completely neglected to include her in the latest _crisis du jour_. Three entire communications panels had been accidentally shorted out and did any of those _men_ bother to tell the Chief Communications Officer that it had happened? Of course not. What could she possibly know about communications panels or circuitry or Boolean logic that was the very basis of all the transmitters aboard this or any other ship? Never mind the fact that she had been awarded by Starfleet their most advanced degrees in Digital Electronic Circuits in Communications. The standard by which all other DECC work was judged. No, none of that crossed their minds when the panels shorted out.

Then in their ham-handed attempts to correct the problem they had shorted out all the computers on six levels of the aft section. _Seriously_? she thought, turning toward the water and letting it flow over her face and down her body. She wasn't saying the short wouldn't have happened if they had alerted her. But she's the one who knew the wiring and circuitry of the communications modules better than anyone, except Scotty. And secretly she thought she might be ahead of him. Only because he had the entire ship and she concentrated on her responsibility.

Her responsibility, she thought again. Fat lot of good that did any of them. But it did give her the satisfaction of telling the _Captain_ that if they ever tried to repair her communications equipment without her presence they would be forced to find a whole new way to communicate because she would rip their tongues out. Yep, message received. So why was she still so angry? Maybe because she had faced this sort of behavior her entire life. Being beautiful was a curse more than a blessing. It made people assume there was nothing in that pretty little head of hers. The men with whom she worked and lived on a daily basis were much less prone to think of her in that way and for that she was extremely grateful. And when they attempted to repair the shorted out modules without her, she couldn't think of it as a personal slight. Even if it did feel that way.

Sighing to herself, she decided she needed to release the last of her pent-up anger over the situation. And there had always been one sure-fire method for doing just that. Making sure her fingers were coated with just enough soap to ease her way but not irritate her most sensitive areas, she followed the stream of water down her flat stomach to the warmth that resided between her legs. She gasped at her first touch, enjoying the indulgence it represented. It felt good to concentrate solely on herself, her pleasure, with the cares of the ship washing away like the shampoo from her hair. With practiced strokes and certain touches, she gave herself the stimulation she most enjoyed, desired, longed for. And it felt good. To think only of the pleasure slowly building in all of the muscles of her body. To let her mind follow the rhythm of her fingers. To be nowhere but right here with no one but herself and the bliss that could be found.


	10. May 10

**May 10**

_A/N: Once again, I must give due credit to the one and only __Lyricoloratura. Without you, I couldn't have done it!!! "__Vizzini: HE DIDN'T FALL? INCONCEIVABLE. Inigo Montoya: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."_

_

* * *

_

_**Inigo Montoya:**__ I donna suppose you could speed things up?  
__**Man in Black**__: If you're in such a hurry, you could lower a rope or a tree branch or find something useful to do.  
__**Inigo Montoya**__: I could do that. I have some rope up here, but I do not think you would accept my help, since I am only waiting around to kill you.  
__**Man in Black: **__That does put a damper on our relationship._

_

* * *

_

"Soooo…" Pavel said, faking casual as he finished his dinner.

"Yeah?" Sulu responded, looking across the mess table at Chekov.

"I vas thinking that perhaps it vould be a fun time if you vould like to vatch a movie. Tonight. Vith me?"

"Yeah, Pav. I'd like that," Sulu agreed. "What time?"

"Ahh… 18:00?" Chekov asked. "You vill come to my quarters perhaps?"

"That sounds great," Sulu said. "I'll bring the popcorn and soda."

"Da," Chekov said with a nod. "I vill be choosing the movie."

"That seems fair," Sulu laughed, standing. "I need to get to the botany lab."

"Da," Chekov said with a smile up at Sulu. "I vill see you at 18:00."

"Sure thing," Sulu agreed, leaving the mess for the botany lab. The smile on his face didn't fade the entire time he was in the lab. He was beyond pleased that Chekov had invited him to a movie in his quarters. Sulu had wanted to move past _friends_ for some time and had often responded physically to Pavel's presence, a response that necessitated hiding it from the younger man. Because all this time, he wasn't sure if Pavel was ready for more than just friendship. Maybe this movie night would be the first of many. Maybe it would even be the first night of something… more.

That was providing Sulu wasn't guilty of wrong thinking, and that Pavel only wanted to be friends. Just friends, and didn't feel the same as Hikaru, didn't want to be with Sulu in _that way._ Because Sulu had to acknowledge that anyone as fiercely bright and attractive and all around superior as Pavel could have anyone that might strike his fancy, on this or any other ship. No way would he settle for someone as ordinary as Hikaru Sulu, who was not superior on any level what-so-ever.

Well, whatever Pavel wanted to give, Sulu would accept as a gift and not be greedy. He would be content being the best of friends if that was to be their fate. And that had to be Chekov's choice. He was only 17, after all. A mature 17, of course. But how could he possibly know what he did and did not want? Or like? Or … well. It had to be Pavel's choice to make. Sulu would find a way to make his feelings clear and hope he wouldn't scare off Chekov. There had to be a balance he could maintain.

At precisely 18:00, he rang the bell to Chekov's quarters, stepping through the doors when the slid apart. Sulu entered with his popcorn and the Pepsi he have filched from the Captain's not-so secret stash. Kirk knew some of the Command Crew periodically took his favorite nonalcoholic drink, and so long as it was replenished at each Starbase, he turned a blind eye to the mysterious disappearing Pepsi.

"I see you have snuck into the Captain's cupboard," Chekov laughed, bringing two cups with ice to the love seat. The holovid-player was all set up, ready for their private showing.

"Yeah," Sulu said with a shrug. "He knows I'll replace it."

"And the Doctor vill be thanking you for taking it," Chekov said, turning on the movie. "Ve are vatching _The Princess Bride_. That is good for you?"

Sulu laughed in delight. "You know it's my favorite," he said. _"Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."_

"Could you defeat Inigo Montoya?" Chekov asked Sulu with a smile that made his eyes sparkle even more than usual.

"I don't know. He practiced for 20 years."

"Da. This is true - _More pursue than study lately. _The Man in Black – he could best Inigo Montoya."

"He can," Sulu agreed.

As the movie started, they took great pleasure in repeating their favorite lines just ahead of the characters, united in their love of this movie that had everything, just like The Grandfather promised.

"Only mostly dead," Sulu called out when they arrived at Max's.

"That was a very noble cause," Chekov countered. It wasn't long after that that they were both laughing so hard they could barley watch the movie.

When Westley had rescued Buttercup, and Inigo had gone off to become The Dread Pirate Roberts, the popcorn was gone and the last Pepsi was empty, Sulu looked over at Chekov, wondering if it was time to try the next step. But Chekov looked tentative, uncertain. Scared even?

"I should go," Sulu said, trying to hide his disappointment that he was right, and Chekov had gotten what he wanted. Someone to watch his favorite movie with him.

"It is not so late," Chekov said, looking up at Sulu where he stood next to the couch.

"No. But we're both on Alpha tomorrow. If I'm late one more time, Jim will put me on Gamma for the next month," Sulu said with a shrug.

"Yes. I vould not be liking that," Chekov said with a sigh. "Ve vill be watching another movie soon?"

"As you wish," Sulu agreed with a smile. "Thanks for the invite. _You seem a decent fellow... I hate to kill you." _

"_You seem a decent fellow... I hate to die_," Chekov responded, walking him to the door. "Goodnight, Hikaru."

"Goodnight, Pavel," Sulu returned, reluctantly leaving. Well, he had said it would be Pavel's choice and his choice was clearly to sleep alone. Hikaru would respect that and try to not think about the fact that he had not found true love.

That still left one small problem. The fact that his body had been anticipating staying with Pavel. Well, that was easily dealt with in the privacy of his own quarters. Which he did directly before falling into a sleep filled with dreams of swashbuckling, and of rescuing Pavel from the evil clutches of those who did not deserve him, even if it meant braving the Fire Swamp.


	11. May 11

**May 11**

_A/N: FYI - Toy Story is one of my all time favorite movies. Ever. As I got toward the end of "May 11" it became more and more clear to me that there was NO way I could combine self-gratification with Buzz and Woody. So I leave the ending to your imagination. Well, like the rest of the endings. There is just something wrong about mixing Disney and ... uhmm... you know. I hope you will forgive me for the omission!_

_

* * *

_

_**Buzz Lightyear:**__ Right now, poised at the edge of the galaxy, Emperor Zurg has been secretly building a weapon with the destructive capacity to annihilate an entire planet! I alone have information that reveals this weapon's only weakness. And *you*, my friend, are responsible for delaying my rendezvous with Star Command!  
__**Woody:**__ YOU! ARE! A! TOYYYYY! You aren't the real Buzz Lightyear! You're - you're an action figure! You are a child's play thing!  
__**Buzz:**__ You are a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity._

_____

* * *

_

Spock paused before pressing the buzzer on the Captain's door to announce his presence. The information he had to share with the Captain could certainly wait until the beginning of their shift in the morning. He had not had any hesitation in ringing for admittance until he heard the Captain inside his quarters. He seemed to be… engaged in some mysterious activity that Spock could not readily discern. The noises coming from the Captain's quarters did not seem to indicate distress but Spock could not be entirely sure. Deciding that ensuring the welfare of his Captain was one of his duties and to delay further would be a dereliction of it, he pressed the buzzer.

"Yeah," the Captain called. "Come on in."

Spock entered to find the Captain watching a holovid. It so captured his attention, he barely acknowledged that Spock had entered. "I regret disturbing you, sir," Spock said, ready to back out.

"No, no, Spock. Sit. I'm just watching _Toy Story._ Always makes me laugh," Jim explained, turning sparkling blue eyes to his First Officer. "What brings you here?"

Spock stared at him for a moment from where he sat in one of the comfortable chairs before remembering the padd in his hand. "I have the collated results of all the readings taken from the anomaly."

"'Kay. It could have waited until tomorrow," Jim said, less than half his attention on his conversation. Spock could see that the majority of the Captain's focus remained on the movie.

"Yes sir," Spock acknowledged, watching the action of the figures in the movie. "What is the purpose of this recording?"

"It's just a movie, Spock. You've watched movies before."

"Yes," Spock agreed, still perplexed by what he was seeing. "However, those were enacted by real beings. These are not."

"No. They are computer generated cartoons. Woody and Buzz are the main characters. And they are still fighting all the time. Haven't become friends yet," Jim explained.

"What is the source of their animosity?" Spock asked, wondering if he was loosing his mind asking about the motivation of two clearly artificial characters.

"Here. I'll start it over," Jim said, using the remote to stop the movie.

"That is entirely unnecessary, sir," Spock said standing up, not wishing to interfere with the Captain's leisure activity. He had so little time to himself, Spock was loathe to be the cause of any changes in his actions.

"This is only 20 minutes in. And I've seen it at least 50 times. I don't mind seeing the first part again," Jim assured him, glancing over at him. "Relax, Spock. We're not having a Space Ranger briefing on the Universe Protection Unit." Jim had to laugh when Spock raised one cryptic eyebrow at his words. "You'll understand when you see the movie."

"Very well," Spock said, sitting back and relaxing in the chair that was positioned right next to the one where Jim had been lounging. He was afforded an unobstructed view of both the movie and his Captain, the later even more interesting than the characters of the movie.

"You want some popcorn?" Jim asked from his dispenser.

"That would be welcome," Spock agreed, watching the movie from the beginning as Jim brought over the snacks. "This toy is in law enforcement?"

Jim laughed and shook his head. "He's a toy sheriff. Just go with it. Don't try to analyze it. It'll make your head explode."

"The statistical likelihood that my head will spontaneously fulminate is less than .0183 to one."

Jim laughed again, knowing full well that he was being teased. And he didn't mind in the least. As the movie progressed, Jim explained the parts that wouldn't be as funny to Spock as they were to Jim, Spock nodding seriously.

"The shepherdess had a romantic interest in the law enforcement officer?" Spock asked at one point.

"Until Buzz Lightyear showed up. She was dazzled by his lasers and his wingspan."

"They are flashing lights. And he is incapable of independent flight," Spock said, making Jim laugh.

"Yeah. He still thinks he's cool. At least until he is sucking down tea with Marie Antoinette," Jim told him with a smile that lit up his entire face.

Spock was aware that Jim was looking over at him, studying him, so it was not a surprise when Jim spoke again.

"Are you bored, Spock? You sure don't have to stay," Jim said. Spock recognized the tone as one of barely disguised disappointment and it inexplicably warmed him to hear it.

"I am fascinated by this form of media," Spock said, rewarded with Jim's laugh. "And I must remain until such a time as Ranger Lightyear and the Sheriff are reunited with their Human caretakers." Spock watched of a moment before looking back over a Jim. "They are successfully reunited, correct?"

"Absolutely. It's a Disney movie. Bad things may happen but they end happily ever after."

Spock nodded at that, watching the antics of the imaginary characters and secretly finding it quite amusing, on a purely Human childlike level. Even more than the movie, he enjoyed being privy to the Captain's open enjoyment. He was laughing and relaxed and…. Those thoughts were going in a dangerous direction and Spock reined them in as quickly and firmly as possible.

Fortunately, Woody and Buzz found their way back to Andy shortly after his mind tried to turn a G-rated moment into a much more explicit one. When the final credits had finished, Spock stood, looking at Jim who had also stood.

"Thank you," Jim said with a warm smile.

"For what, Captain?" Spock asked, genuinely confused as to the reason for Jim's expression of gratitude. After all, Spock had interrupted Jim's leisure time and the solitary enjoyment of his movie.

"_Toy Story_ is more fun when you watch it with someone else," Jim said.

"It has much to offer in entertainment," Spock said, knowing that Jim would laugh at his overly formal statement.

"Yeah. Anyway. Thanks," Jim said, walking Spock to his door. "Goodnight."

"Good night Captain. Tomorrow perhaps we will go To Infinity…."

"and Beyond!" Jim finished, pleasing Spock. "They made two sequels. Maybe we can watch those soon."

"It would be my pleasure," Spock agreed. With a final word, they parted and Spock returned to his quarters. It had been very relaxing to spend that time with Jim and he hoped that they would have the opportunity to be together like that again soon.

And the similarities between the main characters of the movie, and him and Jim was not lost on him. He was very much like Buzz Lightyear in many ways – his sometime overly formal speech patterns, his literal interpretation of events. He considered briefly the more negative aspects of Buzz's personality, like his arrogance. But Buzz didn't know he was being arrogant, really. He was just sure he was right. Where was the contradictory evidence to undermine his belief?

By the same token, Spock saw many similarities between Woody and Jim – their friendly, open nature. Their ability to gain the cooperation of those around them. The fact that the other toys looked to Woody for guidance, and to solve their problems.

Spock wondered what the next two movies would contain. He was certain that, given the time in which they were made, there was no possibility that the two main characters found true love with each other. Was that to be his destiny as well? And why was he even thinking about love where his Captain was concerned? What evidence was there that Jim was interested in anything other than friendship, as they went To Infinity and Beyond?


	12. May 12

**May 12**

_A/N: Hi! Two things: 1) This chapter's short. But it seemed to be finished so I left it the way it is. Like yesterday's, I leave what happens next to your imagination. (Is that cheating? If so, I apologize!) 2) Tomorrow night is commencement at the college where I work. So I won't get home until really really late. (Well, late for me. But I'm old.) So I don't think they'll be a chapter tomorrow. I doubt I'll have time to write 2 on Friday which means we may be a day off until Saturday or Sunday when I will have time to write 2 chapters. (I meant to get a chapter ahead so I didn't have to skip tomorrow night but damn Real Life keeps getting in the way. OMG. Being a responsible adult is soooo overrated!) Hope you enjoy this chapter. And I'll get back on track as soon as I can. Thanks!_

_

* * *

_

_**James Bond:**__ You don't think I enjoyed what we did this evening, do you? What I did tonight was for King and country! You don't think it gave me any pleasure, do you?_

* * *

Scotty rang the bell and waited to be admitted. When the doors slid open, he was a little surprised to see Christine on the other side. Not that her presence was surprising since it was her quarters. Rather it was the way in which she was dressed. She was wearing a fluffy pink robe with matching fluffy pink bedroom shoes. Her hair was held back from her face by a wide band, the same color as her robe. On the whole, Scotty couldn't remember seeing a more endearing sight in a very long time.

"Scotty," Chris said in clear surprise. "What can I do for you?"

"I had some time, lassie, and was thinkin' I'd come take a quick look at your faulty dispenser," he explained, lifting the tool kit he held in his left hand.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "It's kinda late. You must be off duty by now."

He shrugged at her words. "What has a bloke like me ta do when I'm not workin'?"

She smiled in response to that, a smile that melted some part of his heart he didn't know was frozen. Only then did occur to him that maybe she was not alone in her quarters and she was trying subtly to be rid of him. Her smile could melt the hearts of most of the beings on the ship so what made him think she was alone?

"Iffn I'm distrubin' you, I can return tomorrow," he said, worried about the way he was suddenly barging in, and slowly backed up.

"Don't be silly," she said with a delightful laugh, stepping out of the way to wave him further in. "You aren't disturbing me at all. Please, do come in."

He nodded, accepting her invitation. Once inside, he heard a voice with a familiar accent speaking from his left. "What's that you are watchin'?"

"An old holovid. A Bond movie," she said, waving over at it.

"Ahh…Sean Connery. He was the rightful Bond," Scotty said, moving closer to better see the vid. He nodded in recognition. "_Goldfinger_."

"Yeah. They are all kind of…ridiculous. But it helps me forget about everything else," she said, the smile still in place as she watched the super-spy defeat yet another bad guy.

"I know what it is you're sayin'," he agreed. "Well, I won't be in your way as I look over your dispenser."

She waved a casual hand toward it before focusing back on him. "Wouldn't you rather watch the movie with me? It's barely started. And I have this fresh popcorn."

"You sure I won't be in your way, lassie?" Scotty asked, needing to be certain.

"In my way?" she laughed. "I'd love the company. As long as you promise not to talk about hyposprays or fractures."

"You have my word," he agreed happily. "Nor will I be discussin' warp engines or nacelles."

"That's a deal," Chris said, sitting in one of her comfortable chairs. "Sit."

He nodded, sitting next to her and putting his tools on the floor.

"I don't have anything alcoholic to drink," she said with a tone of apology.

"Ahh… no need to be worryin' about that," he said, reaching into his oversize tool kit. "I'm always prepared."

"So I see," she laughed.

"Martini," he claimed.

"Shaken, not stirred," she finished for him.


	13. May 13

**May 13**

_**Annie Reed:**__ Now that was when people KNEW how to be in love. They knew it! Time, distance... nothing could separate them because they knew. It was right. It was real. It was...  
__**Becky:**__ A movie! That's your problem! You don't want to be in love. You want to be in love in a movie.  
__Sleepless in Seattle_

___

* * *

_

"Can I ask you a question?" Christine said to Uhura. It was weekly movie night. This week was Ladies' Choice. Most of the movies that were shown in the observation lounge were action-packed exploits of testosterone driven nonsense. But once a month, the women of the Enterprise got to choose the movie. And the men were welcome to come and watch but under no circumstances were they allowed to complain. Or make ugly comments during the movie. Comments that could be overheard by the women, at any rate.

Christine and Uhura were in their customary seats on the back row, sharing a tub of real popcorn that mysteriously had real butter on it. A rare and wonderful treat. They were mostly watching the movie and partially gossiping quietly as was their habit.

"What?" Nyota asked, looking over at Chris.

"What do you think of Scotty?" Chris asked as casually as she could manage.

"I think he's only slightly more crazy than the rest _Captain_ Insane's crew of misfit," Nyota replied, her laugh taking out any sting that might have been there.

"Well, yeah," Chris agreed, watching Meg Ryan cry on the screen and do it with much more grace than any real person ever could. "But what do you _think_ of him?"

"Oh," Nyota said in realization, looking over at Chris with an expression of sudden understanding. "What do I _think_ of him."

"Yeah."

"What has happened? And why didn't you tell me?" Nyota asked.

"Nothing's happened. He stopped by my quarters to have a look at my dispenser."

"Just because it gives you milk when you want pudding?" Nyota laughed.

"Silly, I know. I was watching _Goldfinger_ so he stayed," Chris said.

"Stayed? As in _stayed?"_

"No. Stayed as in watched the movie then left. As in I wish he had stayed. As in once he'd left, my dreams were decidedly _not_ about James Bond," Chris said, glad the lights were low so Nyota could not see the blush she could feel creeping up her cheeks.

"Ohhh…" Nyota said with a smile.

"So what do you think?" Chris asked, hopeful and scared at all once.

"I think he's adorable. And beneath that craziness is an honest-to-God genius, a man with a heart as big as all of space. One who will love passionately. One who does love passionately. The Enterprise just can't appreciate it," Uhura told her warmly.

"I think she appreciates it. She just can't reciprocate," Chris said with a smile.

"You can do both," Nyota said, giggling like a schoolgirl.


	14. May 14

**May 14**

_**Alvy Singer:**__ You know, I don't think I could take a mellow evening because I - I don't respond well to mellow. You know what I mean? I have a tendency to - if I get too mellow, I - I ripen and then rot, you know.  
Annie Hall_

* * *

"Hey," Dr. McCoy said to Uhura when he found her sitting alone in the mess. It was well after the end of alpha shift so he wondered why she was still there. She didn't look especially happy and that concerned him. "As one of Jim's favorite movie characters says 'My tremendous intuitive sense of the female creature informs me that you are troubled.'" He smiled when she laughed at his words.

"He would make you watch that silly pirate movie, wouldn't he?" Nyota said, waiting as the Doctor sat down across from her.

"Yeah. You know," McCoy said in easy dismissal, studying her without making it overly obvious. "Want to talk about it?"

She shrugged and looked up at his beautiful brown eyes. "I'm not sorry Spock and I broke up. I'm really not. But…."

"Yeah," McCoy agreed. "It's tough."

"It has to be hard on you too, Leonard."

"What's that, darlin'?" he asked.

"Wanting Jim and not having him," she said in sympathy. She was startled when he laughed.

"I don't want him, Nyota. I love him like a brother. When I don't want to kill him. But in love with him? No," Leonard said, shaking his head.

"Ohhh…" Nyota responded. "I thought…well, most of us think…that…uhm…I'm sorry."

"You got no reason to apologize, darlin'. Jim's my best friend. And sometimes that's more than I can take. But sleepin' with him? No. I'm not completely insane."

He could see Nyota taking a moment to absorb his words, considering all that this meant. Maybe what it meant to her was what it meant to him - that they wanted the same thing, that connection that neither of them was yet brave enough to speak out loud. He was pretty sure he was on the right track when she smiled her brilliant smile. The smile that warmed his heart more than he liked to admit.

"You know," she finally said, her smile still in place. "I was supposed to watch a movie with Chris tonight. But because _someone_ put her on beta shift, I have no one to watch it with."

"Now that is a shame," McCoy said, shaking his head and wishing he did feel guilty about it. But in truth he couldn't. It wasn't that he took Chris away from Nyota on purpose but now that it had happened, what was to stop him from taking advantage of the fact? It was purely coincidental that he too had no particular plans for the evening. "We couldn't have a movie night go to waste now could we?"

"I don't think so," she said brightly. "We were planning to watch _Annie Hall_. It's old and romantic and it always makes me laugh. If you wanted to watch something else, we could."

"No, my dear. _Annie Hall_ will be a just fine with me. It'll be nice to be with imaginary people who are the right side of insane. Since I end up spending way too many hours in the company of the man-child in charge of this ship. He's just on the other side of insane, you know," McCoy said with a wink.

"I did know," she agreed brightly. "And you're sure you don't have anything better…else to do?"

"Not unless Captain Crazy manages to injure himself in his own quarters. Not that it'd be the first time. But M'Benga can see to him if it happens."

"Well, la-dee-da, la-dee-da," she said, making him laugh.

"I never thought I'd date someone who said la-dee-da, la-dee-da," he quoted.

"Is this a date?" she asked as she stood up.

"It is if you want it to be," he said smiling in return to hers.

She nodded happily and walked out of the mess with him, still smiling and melting his heart in the process. He knew it was impossible for his heart to _really_ melt but her smile _was_ doing strange things to his insides. And he liked it. A lot.


	15. May 15

**May 15**

_**Indiana Jones:**__ Oh, Marcus. What are you trying to do, scare me? You sound like my mother. We've known each other for a long time. I don't believe in magic, a lot of superstitious hocus pocus. I'm going after a find of incredible historical significance, you're talking about the boogie man. Besides, you know what a cautious fellow I am.  
Raiders of the Lost Ark_

* * *

"Come," Sam called, a little surprised that his door chime rang. It wasn't so late but most of his security personnel just commed him when they wanted to discuss anything with him. They rarely ever visited in person after their shifts. He was pleasantly surprised when the door slid open to admit Dr. McCoy, one of his favorite people on this or any other ship. They had almost nothing in common which might have been one of the reasons Sam so enjoyed the other man's company. "Hi, Doc. What brings you here?"

"Nothing much, Sam. I had a couple of hours on my hands and I hadn't had a good reason to see you for several days," McCoy said. "Thought I'd stop by and see how you are doing."

"Purely social call?" Sam asked, seeing more than the Doctor was saying. Because that was his job. And he was very very good at his job.

"Purely social," Bones confirmed. "Am I disturbing anything?"

"Not a thing. I was just getting ready to watch _Raiders of the Lost Ark_. You're welcome to stay. Got plenty of popcorn and gin," Sam assured him.

"Love to as long as you don't mind the company," Bones said, settling in the chair next to Sam's.

"Of course not. Be glad to have you here," Sam said, starting the movie with the familiar music that never failed to make him smile.

"So," Bones said, glancing over at Sam. "Rumor mill has it that you might be nursing a broken heart."

"Don't beat around the bush there, Doc. Come right out with it," Sam laughed.

"Neither of us are much for subtlety," McCoy said. "I thought it was so much nonsense. But some folks seem a little worried about you."

"I'm fine, Leonard. I don't know where that gossip came from. You know I don't mix business and pleasure. If I did date a member of the crew, it'd come to no good."

"It's not against regulations, Sam. Not that I have them memorized like you do. But I'm pretty sure about that one," Bones said, eating more popcorn.

"Yeah. Still," Sam said with a shrug.

"I know," Leonard agreed.

"I heard you and Nyota spent some quality time together," Sam said, laughing quietly.

"We watched _Annie Hall_. That was it. It was even funnier than I remembered," McCoy said.

"You have another date with her?"

"Not specifically a date. We might watch another movie next week. When we're both off shift," McCoy said. "But stop trying to change the subject."

"Huh," Sam snorted, taking a drink, the ice rattling against the glass.

"You could have anyone on this ship you wanted, Sam. You do know that, right?"

"It's not so simple, Leonard. Any more than it is for you," Sam reminded him.

"Maybe it's a little simpler for me," Bones said thoughtfully. "But you don't need to deny yourself. You aren't a monk."

"I don't live like one. But I knew the path I was choosing when I took the security chief's job. 'Course no one could have predicted it'd be quite so… challenging."

"Jim has a way of finding trouble," Bones laughed. "Nobody in their right mind would deny that."

"God bless him. Is he as crazy as he seems?" Sam asked before he realized those words were coming out of his mouth. He was relieved when the Doctor laughed at his inappropriate question.

"It's a defense mechanism for the most part. Being a certified genius was tough on him so he covered it with… well, craziness," Bones said.

"Yeah," Sam responded, refilling his glass from his bottle of gin. "Doc?"

"Sure," Bones agreed, holding his glass to let Sam refill it. "I'm not on duty tonight."

They watched the movie while chatting about nothing of real importance, enjoying each other's company as much as the movie. When it ended, Bones left, leaving Sam to consider what they had talked about. It was reassuring in some elusive way that there were those on the ship that thought about - and more surprisingly - worried about his happiness. It was entirely unnecessary but they really were a family and looked out for each other in much the way one would worry about their brothers and sisters.

Focusing on tweaking the latest simulation pushed those thoughts aside until he decided the gin combined with the late hour made it impossible for him to get anything more accomplished. After undressing and getting into bed, the conversation with the Doctor replayed itself, the subject from the initial part of their chat going down between his legs.

Rather than thinking of anyone on the Enterprise _in that way_, he focused on Marion Ravenwood. She was a little skinny for his tastes but she had a lot of gumption. And she was able to keep up with Indiana, even though she was a little too shrill as she did it. If she were on the Enterprise, he could see her as a member of his security force. Using a table knife to defend herself. Drinking her adversaries under the table. Yeah, she would make an excellent security officer. And her imaginary presence had the additional bonus of bringing him to a state of satisfaction that helped him sleep soundly and peacefully.


	16. May 16

**May 16**

_**Hamm:**__ Excuse me, ladies, but could any of you tell us where we might find the Al of Al's Toy Barn?  
__**Tour guide Barbie:**__ I can help! I'm Tour Guide Barbie! Please keep your hands, arms, and accessories in the car, and no flash photography. Thank you.  
__**Mr. Potato Head:**__ I'm a married spud, I'm a married spud...  
__**Hamm:**__ Then make way for the single fellas.  
Toy Story 2_

* * *

"Captain?" Spock said from where he was standing beside the Captain's table in the mess.

"Hey Spock," Jim responded, smiling up at him, glad to see him finally. They had barely encountered each other all day, their duties keeping them on opposite ends of their ship.

"Might I join you?" Spock asked.

"Spock, how long have we served together on the Enterprise?" Jim asked with a smile up at his First Officer. He could see Spock's very slight discomfort at the question, and possibly something more?

"We have served for …."

"No, never mind," Jim said with a laugh. "In all the time that we've served together, on how many days would you say we've shared a meal?"

"We have dined together for 89.1% of our meals," Spock responded.

"So why is it you think you still have to ask if it's okay to sit at my table with me?" Jim asked, still smiling up at his First Officer.

"It would presumptuous…."

"Really?" Jim laughed. "If 89.1% isn't usual practice, I don't know what would be. Trust me, Spock. You always have permission to join me. This is your table as much as it is mine. Just because it's called the Captain's table in no way means you need _my_ permission to sit here."

"I see, sir," Spock said, still looking down at Jim from where he stood.

"Would you please sit down?" Jim laughed. That seemed to startle Spock who quickly complied.

"My apologies."

"Whatever for?" Jim asked when Spock was sitting across from him.

"I was distracted by my own internal reflections," Spock admitted.

"I understand," Jim said with a nod, drinking from his coffee. "Did you fix the faulty mechanism?"

"We were able to effect the repairs, temporarily. Mr. Scott is insisting that we have the forward level six tantalum capacitor replaced at the next available opportunity."

"Yeah. He told me. We should be able to stop by Spacestation VanHalen next week."

"That would be a welcome change of pace," Spock admitted, to the surprise of the Captain.

"You're feeling the strain too?" Jim asked in some concern.

"I do not believe any of us are entirely immune to it, sir."

"No, I don't think so either," Jim agreed, taking a deep breath. Things hadn't been totally out of hand lately but there were a lot of small, seemingly insignificant events that added up to putting a strain on everybody. "Maybe they'll grant us shore leave soon."

"The crew would be appreciative," Spock said as he ate from his salad. Jim could tell Spock was studying him and made no comment. If Spock had something to say, he'd say it, or he wouldn't. And it would be entirely the Vulcan's decision. Which was fine with Jim.

"I'm going to watch Toy Story 2 tonight, if we don't run smack into a civil war or an uncharted asteroid field," Jim said. "Would you like to join me? Buzz and Woody have been asking about you."

Spock raised an eyebrow at Jim's nonsense but nodded. "That would be a welcome diversion. What time should I report to your quarters?"

"20:00. I'll have the popcorn ready. Extra butter," Jim promised, watching Spock eat more of his salad.

"That will be most appreciated," Spock said with a nod.

"Unless you need me, I'm going to my quarters and see if I can catch up on some reports and files," Jim said.

"I have nothing official to discuss with you at this time, sir," Spock said, standing as the Captain did. "I will see you at 20:00."

"Good," Jim agreed, leaving the mess, the trip as always slowed by those who wanted to have a quick word with him. Since he had no particular place to be, he wasn't wearing his 'don't talk to me right now' expression, one the crew usually heeded.

When he finally arrived at his quarters, he decided a shower would be welcome. Then once the movie was over, maybe he would be able to go directly to sleep. Catch up on some of those hours that he had missed out on over the past few weeks.

He stripped out of his uniform once in his locked bathroom, appraising himself in the mirror. Contrary what most of the crew thought, he was not taken with his appearance. He accepted the facts of how he looked, and that he had had nothing to do with the way he had turned out. The combination of his parents' DNA determined that his hair would be mostly blond and his eyes that particular shade of blue. As for the rest of his appearance - all he saw was the nose that had been broken one too many times, the eye socket that had not healed entirely correctly, the other flaws that were all too apparent in his self-view. And that others found him attractive was their decision, an opinion that had benefited his crew more than once.

As he studied himself critically, he wondered what Spock saw when he looked at his Captain. Did he see arrogance and willfulness? Did he see human flaws and emotions? Did he see that Jim wished Spock saw the truth of how he really felt about his First Officer?

Thinking about Spock stirred the reaction it always did when he was alone – he felt the beginnings of an erection in response to those familiar thoughts. Which was fine, really. He had time to do something about it before Spock arrived to share the movie.

Hands travelling down his abdomen made hard by strenuous work-outs, skimming over prominent hipbones, encircling his firming need, he used some convenient lotion to ease the friction. It felt really good to be touching himself intimately, something he had not been able to immerse himself in for quite some time. The last time he tried it, he was continually interrupted with ship's business, unable to concentrate on his own. But the ship was quiet now and he had only his pleasure to think on. And think on it he did. He shied away from thinking of how he would prefer that they were Spock's hands rather than his own. His erection was satisfied with the caresses and his body wasn't particular about whose hands provided them.

Those practiced hands accomplished their goal in short order, the pleasure tightening his muscles and erupting in satisfaction. He felt the afterglow drift through his body as he lingered by his sink where he was leaning. It wasn't an earth-shattering orgasm but there was no such thing as a disappointing one, really. So he'd take it. And just maybe, he'd eventually have the necessary courage to admit to Spock that he longed to know how it felt for his Vulcan to provide him that sort of pleasure.


	17. May 17

**May 17**

_**Donkey:** Can I stay with you? Please?_  
_**Shrek:** Of course._  
_**Donkey:** Really?_  
_**Shrek:** NO._  
_**Donkey:** Please. I don't wanna go back there. You don't know what it's like to be considered a freak... Well, maybe you do, but that's why we gotta stick together. You gotta let me stay!_  
_Shrek_

* * *

The Captain was strolling down the corridor, about to round one of the corners that would lead to the turbolift he needed to go up the three levels. As he got closer, he could hear Chekov's voice drifting over to him.

"…and he has green skin, you know. And really strange ears," Chekov was saying. Someone Jim guessed was Sulu made a non-committal response. "He likes spending almost all of his time by himself. And he's smarter than he looks."

"Gentlemen," the Captain said as he rounded the corner.

"Captain," Chekov and Sulu responded with smiles. Jim eyed them both, wondering at the lack of guilt evident on their faces. After all, he had just caught them talking about the First Officer of this starship.

"Would you mind explaining the reason you are gossiping?" the Captain asked sternly, the other two men exchanging a quick glance.

"Gossiping, sir?" Sulu asked, a quizzical look on his face.

"Were you or were you not just talking about green skin and strange ears?" the Captain asked with a hard edge to his voice.

"Yes sir," Chekov agreed, frowning while trying to figure out what had made the Captain angry.

"Is it becoming of two members of the command crew to gossip about a superior officer?"

"A superior officer, sir?" Sulu asked, even more confused.

"Ahh…Captain," Chekov said, the proverbial light bulb going off over his head. "I vas telling Hikaru about the movie ve vill be vatching."

"A movie?" the Captain asked with his own frown of confusion.

"Yes sir. Ve vill be seeing _Shrek_. He's an ogre," Chekov explained.

"Ohhhh….of course," Jim said, finally laughing. "I apologize."

"There is no need, sir," Chekov assured him. "Shrek has green skin and strange ears."

"Yes, of course," Jim repeated. "Sorry I misinterpreted your conversation. Carry on." Jim was still chuckling as he walked off, Chekov and Sulu going the opposite direction toward Chekov's quarters.

When Sulu and Chekov arrived in Pavel's quarters, they sat together in the loveseat, the popcorn waiting for them. It was a little cold because Pavel had had to go to the labs to drag Hikaru out. This movie night had been planned since the last one when they had laughed all the way through _The Princess Bride._ And Hikaru had no intention of being late – he just got distracted while tending to some of his prize orchids. Pavel understood and didn't hold his tardiness against him.

Pavel had been surprised when Hikaru told him he had never seen _Shrek_ which is why he was explaining about the ogre when the Captain had encountered them.

"Do you think the Captain vas very angry at us?" Pavel asked Hikaru when they had gotten settled.

"No. But he's very protective of Spock," Sulu pointed out.

"Protective," Chekov agreed. "As you vould be for me."

"You know it," Sulu agreed with a smile. Pavel liked that smile and it made him smile in return.

"Do you think that they are more than being friends?" Pavel asked.

"I don't know, Pav. It's not something you can exactly ask them, is it? But don't you think we'd know if they were together?"

"Maybe ve vould," Pavel agreed. "Do you know that Dr. McCoy and Uhura vatched a movie together?"

"Alone together?" Sulu asked, smiling.

"This is vhat I am told. Maybe she vill make him less a grouch, yes?" Pavel asked, making Sulu laugh.

"Maybe. Everybody thinks he and the Captain sleep together."

"Nyet - I am not believing it. The Captain is for Mr. Spock," Pavel said with a nod.

"Does seem that way," Sulu agreed. "So this is the Donkey that ends up living in Shrek's house?"

"It is. Shrek at first is not so glad for this. But he learns how good it is to be having friends."

"It's what makes life worth living," Sulu said with a smile, enjoying the movie and the company even more.

When Shrek had rescued Fiona and Donkey had been wooed by Dragon, Chekov turned off the player and turned to looked at Sulu who was still smiling at the move.

"This vas fun, da?" Chekov asked.

"Always," Sulu said, meeting Chekov's eyes before abruptly standing up. "I better go."

"You are sure?"

"Yeah. It's late. And I have to…uhm… go to the labs early. And Mr. Spock is expecting me to…ahh… well, anyway. Thanks."

"You are velcome," Chekov said, his disappointment barely disguised as he walked Sulu to the door. "Next time, you vill be choosing the movie?"

"Uhh… sure… of course. Good night, Pavel," Sulu stammered before practically fleeing from Chekov's quarters.

Chekov sighed when the door was closed, tidying up from their movie night. He wished he could have convinced Sulu to stay. But that was clearly not what Hikaru wanted. So he would be happy with having him for his friend, just like Shrek and Donkey.

Except Pavel had needs that would never be mentioned in a movie primarily intended for the younger set. And Dr. McCoy had assured him that his "needs" were perfectly normal. After taking care of his nightly routine in the bathroom, he got into bed wearing only his boxers, Hikaru still very much on his mind. And effecting another more interesting part of his anatomy.

Pavel closed his eyes as he slid his hands slowly down his body and beneath the elastic of his shorts. He knew what he was doing was natural and not a cause for embarrassment but that didn't stop his cheeks from warming up as he got closer and closer to the bulge in his boxers. Suddenly impatient, he shoved them down, freeing his erection to spring to full life. He moaned very softly as he wrapped his fingers around the yearning need that was lingering from Sulu's visit. If only he had stayed. If only he were in the bed with Pavel. If only they were Hikaru's fingers, teasing, touching, pleasing.

Still, caressing himself _was_ undeniably enjoyable, the pleasure building with each stroke up and down up and down. It didn't take too many repetitions until he climbed the peak, the orgasm releasing all of the tension built up in his muscles in a most satisfactory way. Satisfactory. Yeah, but he wanted it to be spectacular. He wanted Sulu to _make_ it spectacular. Would it ever happen? Would he know the joy of being loved by the person who had become the most important living soul in his life? Would he ever be able to tell Sulu the unvarnished truth - that he was as important to Pavel as Fiona was to Shrek and Donkey was to Dragon? Would they live happily ever after?


	18. May 18

**May 18**

_**Viola De Lesseps**__: I will have poetry in my life. And adventure. And love. Love above all. No... not the artful postures of love, not playful and poetical games of love for the amusement of an evening, but love that... over-throws life. Unbiddable, ungovernable - like a riot in the heart, and nothing to be done, come ruin or rapture. Love - like there has never been in a play.  
Shakespeare in Love_

* * *

After watching _Annie Hall_ with Leonard, Nyota had invited him to return the next week for another movie. She'd explain to Chris and knew she'd be glad to move their movie night to a different time.

At precisely 19:30, Dr. McCoy rang her bell and she called for him to come in. When he did, she inhaled sharply and in surprise. He was wearing jeans. Jeans that conformed to his muscular body as did the faded tee shirt he was sporting. She was also dressed casually but felt like a slob next to him. _Wow_. She has always thought he was attractive but this…this was a side of the Doctor she had not before seen.

"Do have something on my face?" he asked, his beautiful green/brown eyes sparkling with laughter.

"No," she said, shaking her head, her loose hair moving in waves at the motion. "I don't… don't think I've ever seen you in jeans before."

He shrugged at her words, looking down at himself. "I don't have much chance to wear them. But they are still my favorite way to dress."

"I can see why," she said before she could stop herself. "They suit you," she said quickly to try and cover her own awkwardness.

"You look especially lovely," he said, appraising her in her soft red lounging pants that did nothing to disguise her beautiful shape underneath.

"Comfortable," she corrected with a shrug. "Please. Sit. You want something to drink with your popcorn?" she asked as she handed him the giant bowl.

"Got any ice tea?" he asked, already munching on the popcorn.

"Of course," she said, fixing him a glass and bringing it over with her as she sat next to him, her own glass of water next to her. "I thought we'd watch _Shakespeare in Love._ It's one of my all time favorites."

"I've never seen it," he said. "But Jim has. He loves it. 'Course when I ask why, he usually says something about Viola being hot as blue blazes."

"He would," Nyota said, rolling her eyes in dismissal.

"He's not all hormones," Leonard assured her warmly. "He likes pretending that he is."

"He pretends he's a lot of things," Nyota said, smiling.

"Yeah," Leonard agreed. "How was our day?"

"It was quiet. Which I ought not say out loud. Bad things happen every time I do," she laughed. "We're going to space state VanHalen next week."

"I heard. Good thing too. We spend much longer out here and _I _won't be held responsible for what happens."

"What will happen?" she asked with a smile.

"There's just no tellin'. But I suspect we'll come close to end-times. Cats will lay with dogs. Admirals will talk to yeomen. Kirk will make sense." He was rewarded with her laugh and he had to smile in return.

"You should smile more. Makes you look less…."

"Less what?" he asked, still smiling.

"No, never mind," she said, a soft blush creeping up her cheeks. "Should we start the movie?"

"Sure. Unless I can talk you into finishin' that sentence," he teased.

"Not a chance," she said, pressing play so the movie started, filling the silence that had engulfed her. She quickly became enchanted with the movie, as she always did - watching the stories unfold. The characters getting caught up in the drama surrounding them.

She was aware of the warmth of having Leonard next to her on the loveseat, his presence so comfortable as to feel completely natural to her. She tried not to show her surprise when his hand casually covered hers which had been resting on the loveseat between them. Taking her acceptance as consent, Leonard gently picked up her hand and engulfed it in his. His hand was warm and soft and sturdy. A surgeon's hand. And it made her feel like a schoolgirl to hold hands while watching a movie. The innocence of it was so endearing she could feel her color rise again.

They sat almost completely in silence as the movie continued, Nyota loving it as always. And she could tell that Leonard was also enjoying it from the mesmerized expression on his face. He wasn't bored – he was very relaxed which she took as a great compliment.

When Will and Viola had said their tearful farewells, he looked over at Nyota with suspiciously shining eyes. "Thank you," he said, his voice slightly rougher than usual.

"Thank _you_," she returned with a smile. She could feel his eyes drift down to her lips and she was aware that she was holding her breath. _Please kiss me_ was all she could think. She quickly regained her composure when he stood.

"I should go."

"Alright," she said, not disguising her disappointment. Maybe guilt would be persuasive in getting him to stay.

"I… would like to stay, Nyota. But… if I do…." He stopped, still looking down at her where she sat on the loveseat.

"I know, Leonard. If you stay, it will be all night."

He nodded and she could see the thoughts chase across his face. "It's not that I don't want to. Because I do. It's just too…."

"Quick," she supplied for him.

"Yeah. And I guess some part of me isn't convinced that your former hobgoblin boyfriend won't in fact kill me," he said more lightly.

"He won't. Well – I'd stop him," she amended with a soft laugh.

"'Preciate it," he said. "Can we go to a movie when we get to VanHalen?"

"I'd like that," she said, standing gracefully and rising on her toes to very lightly kiss his lips. "Good night Leonard."

"Good night Nyota," he said, leaving with a last glance back at her, his determination to actually leave her clear in his expression.


	19. May 19

**May 19 **

_Always buy pornographic books in hardback because they're easier to hold with one hand. — Robert Clark_

_

* * *

What was the point of pretending any longer?_ Sulu asked himself as he lay in his bunk. Alone. Alone like he was resigned to be the rest of his life. He had been right in his assessment – Pavel wasn't interested in him as anything more than a friend. And why should he be? What would a Russian genius with looks to match his smarts want with Hikaru Sulu? Who could kindly be described as ordinary?

Well, no matter, Sulu tried telling himself. He'd been alone most of his adult life. He could manage just fine right by himself, thank you very much. And anyone who thought differently could …well, he wasn't entirely comfortable even _thinking_ the kind of word that usually went there.

Sighing in resignation, he rolled over to take his favorite racy novel out of the back of the drawer. Not that he needed to hide it since no one else spent any time in his quarters. At least the characters on the pages didn't care that he was ordinary and unworthy of a second glance by a certain sexy navigator.

He immersed himself in the familiar details of the story, a book he would never have admitted reading even if it didn't contain pornographic descriptions of women and men coupling, and uncoupling, and recoupling in a staggering array of combinations. Because it was almost complete nonsense periodically interrupted by salacious bits of naughtiness.

It was the naughtiness that drew him back time and again. There was something undeniably alluring and sensual about the way the writer described the sexual activities of the multiple characters to whom he had given life. They were all well endowed with stamina and staying power that would make any real being jealous. Their bodies were all sculpted and perfect, their looks beyond extraordinary, and naturally they spent their time in pursuit of their next conquest. No need for these gods and goddesses of the flesh to toil in menial jobs.

As Hikaru got deeper in the story, he felt the beginnings of a familiar reaction, his erection stirring in response to those depicted on the page. His right hand wandered down the length of his body as his left held the book open. It didn't take more than a few strokes for him to be as hard as the covers of his novel, his attention evenly divided between the imagined erections and his real one. Using depictions of the same indulgence by one of the characters, he felt all of his muscles tighten in preparation. One-more-stroke-and-he'd-be….

"Hikaru," Pavel's voice said from the area of his doorway. From _inside_ his doorway.

"Oh shit," Hikaru said with a gasp, too far gone to stop his fall over the precipice. All he could do was stare up at Pavel as he stood next to Sulu's bed. Chekov was silently staring back with wide eyes mesmerized by the evidence of Sulu's pleasure.

"I'm so sorry" they said at the exact same time.

Chekov turned quickly toward the door as Sulu covered himself with a sheet and sat up.

"Pavel," Hikaru called after him. "Wait."

"I…am…I ought not… I'm sorry, 'Karu," Pavel stammered.

"I'm sorry too. But you don't have to leave," Sulu said. "I mean… we're both embarrassed. So we can be embarrassed together." He could almost _feel_ Chekov consider his words before slowly approaching again, staring down at the floor.

"I should not have been coming in," Pavel said quietly.

"I should not have been coming," Sulu responded, glad when Pavel gave him a shy smile. "Is everything okay? You don't ordinarily just come in."

"Everything is more than fine," Pavel said with a nod. "I had not seen you all the day. I commed you and you were not answering."

"I'm sorry. I requested only Command communiqués be announced. I didn't mean for that to screen you out."

"Ahh…" Chekov said in understanding. "Soooo…. You also…uhm…you touch yourself? _Like that_?"

"Of course. I'm pretty sure everyone does."

"Even the Captain?" Chekov asked quietly because he didn't want to even admit he'd thought about those aspects of the Captain's personal business.

"Jim Kirk?" Sulu asked with a laugh. "It's a wonder it hasn't fallen off."

"Da," Chekov had to agree.

"Do you masturbate, Pav?" Sulu asked, deciding to heed that cliché – in for a penny in for a pound.

"Da," Pavel admitted. "I vas vorrying that it vas too much maybe. I talked vith Dr. McCoy."

"And he told you it was okay," Sulu said in certainty.

"Da."

"It is. But I know you didn't come here to talk about self-gratification."

Chekov shook his head with a smile. "I am hungry. Vould you be vanting to go and get something to eat?"

"Sure. If you want to go ahead, I'll pop in the shower and meet you there in 10 minutes."

"I do not mind the vaiting," Pavel said.

"Do you mind me going to my bathroom naked?" Sulu laughed.

"I vill not be peeking. Not much," Chekov said, laughing.

"That's fair," Sulu agreed, throwing off the covers to cross over to his bathroom. He knew Chekov was watching him leave his sleeping quarters and Sulu was glad. Maybe over their late dinner, he would find the courage to ask Chekov if he was interested in being touched _like that_ by someone else, someone just like Hikaru Sulu.

* * *

_A/N: Wow! We are more than half done with the Merry Month of May! When did that happen! _

_A very special thanks to all of you fabulous readers/reviewers out there! I cannot begin to tell you how much I appreciate hearing from each and every one of you! Reviews do equal love! And if you don't review, I totally understand. And will continue to love you no matter what._

_Real Life is being a harsh task-master right now and will be for the next week or so. If I don't manage to update every day, I'm sorry. I will try but it's going to be really difficult for the next week to 10 days. If I get behind, I'll try to catch up on the weekends. (The good news is that my job sucks right now and that the updates aren't being delayed or postponed by cataclysmic illnesses or personal End Times.)_

_Thanks again for your loyalty and your indulgence in allowing me to explore 31 days of self-gratification!_


	20. May 20

**May 20 **

_If sex is such a natural phenomenon, how come there are so many books on how to do it?  
-Bette Midler_

* * *

Spock knew that the Captain was concerned in his own particularly Human way. Not that he had said so in as many words. But Spock had come to know him well enough to recognize the signs – that Jim's eyes followed him, that he was frowning more than normal, that Jim's voice was in some intangible way subdued when they were on the Bridge during common shifts.

Spock was anticipating the Captain asking directly what was troubling his First Officer but the question did not come. Instead, the Captain continued to act…deferential toward Spock. And Spock wanted to explain, to reestablish the easy camaraderie that they had previously shared. He was not yet prepared to do so.

Instead, Spock continued his clandestine research – reading up on Human sexual techniques. He wanted very much to try out his findings on Jim but he wasn't sure Jim would be a willing participant in his experimentation, which would obviously render the project at least temporarily moot. Prior to requesting his involvement, Spock was experimenting with the techniques, trying out those that were possible to accomplish singularly. There were a surprising number of those, as it turned out. And they were quite satisfactory.

The most recent one he had read about was called the _patrolling zebra_. It was a fascinating concept to him and he spent some time while on duty contemplating all the possible scenarios that it suggested.

Once shift was over and he had eaten dinner with Jim and the Doctor, he excused himself and retreated to his quarters. He again read over the information he had found that afternoon, reviewing the positions and the recommended sequence of actions. Removing his uniform was the first and simplest of the steps, then he sat in the center of his bed, the book open before him. He placed his hands in the positions indicated and closed his eyes, concentrating on the pleasure and the relaxation that was to be found in the practice.

As recommended by the book, he slowly and leisurely encircled his semi-erect penis, using the descriptions as his guide. The manner in which the authors recommended he pleasure himself was very effective and he wondered if it would be as pleasing to Jim.

"What?" Jim's voice said in the mostly dark quarters.

"Captain?" Spock responded, not entirely sure the voice was outside his head.

"What are you doing in the dark, Spock? Lights 80%."

"Lights 30%," Spock countered, able to cover himself with a sheet before the Captain rounded his divider.

Jim stood beside Spock's bed, looking down at him with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"I am quite well, Captain," Spock said, his voice tight and his sheet tented.

"What are you doing? And why were you talking to me when you didn't know I was here?"

"I was addressing you?" Spock asked, the color rising in his face.

"Yeah. I…well, I feel like something's up, Spock. And I've been concerned," Jim said, still studying him with a puzzled expression.

"I apologize for any unease I may have caused, sir," Spock said. "I am quite well."

Jim shook his head at that, still studying him. When his puzzled expression melted into one of understanding, Spock was a little afraid Jim was about to bolt from the room. "I'm interrupting you, aren't I?" Jim finally asked, his cheeks turning a bright pink.

"Not any longer," Spock said, glancing quickly down at his lap to ensure that he was still completely under cover.

"I'm sorry. But I did buzz. And when I heard you talking, I thought you were inviting me in," Jim said, meeting Spock's eyes. Spock could see the barely disguised laughter that was starting to replace the embarrassment from earlier. "You were talking about me. But not to me."

"I…would prefer not to respond to that at this time," Spock said quietly, not breaking eye contact.

"Yes. I see. Well. Carry on I guess," Jim laughed. "And if you decide you want to talk with me instead of about me, you know where I can be found."

"I do indeed," Spock agreed.

"_Patrolling zebra, _huh? I prefer _reclining giraffe_ myself," Jim said, still laughing as he left Spock's quarters.

Spock paged through the book until he found the description of _reclining giraffe_ and decided that that would be the subject of tomorrow's experimentation.


	21. May 21

**May 21**

_A dirty book is rarely dusty. ~ Author Unknown_

"Hi," Christine said in bright greeting when her door slid open to admit Scotty. They were going to watch their second Bond movie together, neither of them going so far as calling it a _date_ but that's what it really was, _really_.

"'lo Lassie," Scotty said with a smile. He thought she looked especially pretty in her casual clothes, a pink sweater over faded jeans. He was similarly attired, sporting jeans and a denim shirt, the sleeves rolled up half way. "I brought you some liquid refreshment."

She laughed as she accepted the mason jar full of his infamous spirits. "Thank you. I got ahold of some Pepsi that I'll be putting mine into."

"Ah," Scotty said with a nod. "I understand ya. Prefer mine straight up."

"So I've heard," she said with a smile. "Come and sit down. I have the movie all queued up."

He accepted her invitation, entering further into her cozy quarters, settling next to her on the loveseat when she had sat down, a bowl of potato chips on her coffee table waiting for them. He reached for a chip, searching his mind for the right thing to say. It'd been so long since he'd been on anything that remotely resembled 'a date' he wasn't quite sure what he was expected to say. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when she took the responsibility from him.

"Are you staying on board the entire time we're at VanHalen?" she asked, glancing over at him.

"Chances are good that all personnel will need to be evacuated at some point," Scotty said. "I don't fancy leaving my lady to the ministrations of those _experts._"

"I understand," Chris said with a nod. "But surely the Captain won't authorize any repairs or modifications without your approval."

"He's very good about protecting her from meddling. Starfleet sometimes they think they know what is best," Scotty said, scoffing at the mere idea that _anyone_ could possibly know better than he did what the Enterprise did or did not need. That was outrageous and utterly untrue.

"Dr. McCoy says the same," she said in sympathy. "Why they can't leave us alone to do our jobs I'll never understand."

"You be sayin' it right, lassie," Scotty replied, warming up to his favorite topic. Before he knew what had come over him, he found himself telling her about some of the idiotic communiqués HQ had sent him and the Captain, mandating updates and recalibrations, and general meddling of the most troublesome kind. Some part of his brain knew he was monopolizing the conversation but she was such an excellent listener, interested, asking the right questions at the right time, he couldn't stop himself from going on and on about his favorite subject.

"Surely they didn't think it was a good idea?" she said when he had told her about a re-fit that had been ordered, one he had informed the Captain would make it impossible to achieve warp.

"They never factored in the inertia of space. Not until Commander Spock told them they were wrong would they listen," he said, shaking his head.

"Because you couldn't possibly understand the physics of warp drive in space," she said.

"Apparently. Damn bureaucrats. Thank the heavens for Admiral Pike. He's at least seen the inside of a starship for more than an inspection tour," Scotty said.

"That's been our experience as well," she agreed, frowning when her intercom buzzed. "I'm sorry."

"Na to worry, lassie," he said.

"Chapel here," she said in response.

"I don't mean to bother you, Chris. But Erick's wakin' up and doesn't quite know where he is. Can you run down and talk to him?" McCoy's voice asked. It sounded guilty and worried in equal parts.

"Of course, Doctor. I'm in jeans and can get there quicker if I don't change."

"Darlin' I don't care if you're in your skivvies. If you can get him to finish wakin' up without hurtin' him or me, you will once more deserve your title as saint."

Scotty liked the laugh that Chris gave in response to McCoy's mild rant.

"Alright. I'll be there as quick as I can."

"I appreciate it, darlin'."

Chris disconnected and turned to Scotty with an apologetic expression. "I shouldn't be long, Scotty. Will you wait?"

"I most certainly will," he agreed, standing to walk her to her door. "Might I browse through some of your books? You have an impressive collection."

"Of course," she agreed. "If you see one that interests you, I hope you'll feel free to borrow it."

"That's kind of you, lassie," he said.

She smiled at that before leaving him alone in her quarters. He squatted before her low bookcase, reading the titles of the volumes she had collected. Some were familiar and some were brand new to him. One that lay horizontally on top of the others caught his attention, the cover deep burgundy with no title visible. Curious, he picked it up to casually flip through it. To his surprise, it turned out to be a copy of the _Salagsställnemgar, _a collection considered by many as the definitive guide to the pleasures of the flesh. He had never before encountered an actual printed copy of the book and could not help but flip through it. From his brief glimpses, he could see that its reputation was well earned.

He had stopped to study the position entitled _tumbling eagle_ when Christine's voice called him over the intercom.

"Yes lassie?" Scotty answered in what he hoped was his usual voice.

"I'm going to be here longer than I had hoped. I better take a raincheck on Bond."

"Is Erick alright?" Scotty asked in concern for his engineer.

"He's fine, Scotty," she said, her tone easing his worry. "It's complicated and I'll explain it all tomorrow."

"I understand," he said, not bothering to try and figure it out. As long as she and Erick were okay, that's all that was important. "I found a couple of your books I've a fancy to read, iffn you don't object."

"Of course. Enjoy them," she said, signing off with her wishes that he have a good night.

He took the _Salagsställnemgar _with him as well as a couple of novel he was also interested in reading and left Chris' quarters. Maybe by reviewing the information in between those burgundy covers, he'd be ready for the next time they were planning to watch a movie together.


	22. May 22

**May 22**

_Anyone who eats thee meals a day should understand why cookbooks outsell sex books three to one. ~ L. M. Boyd_

_

* * *

_

Christine stood in the doorway of Scotty's office until he noticed her presence, enjoying the chance to watch him work. He smiled when he saw her standing there patiently.

"Hi," Chris said with a smile. "You busy?"

"Not at the moment," he assured her, standing up to approach her. "Won't you have a seat?" he invited.

"Thanks," she agreed, sitting in one of the chairs as he sat next to her. "I'm sorry again about last night."

"Achh…I understand. You needn't worry. I visited with Erick this morning," Scotty said.

"He'll be released tomorrow," Chris assured him. "Doctor said it's a common reaction but not dangerous."

"Yes, he told me. I thank ye for all the attention you gave to him."

"It's my job," she said with a smile.

"It's who you are," Scotty corrected, smiling in return to his. "I don't think you came down here to chat about Erick."

"No," she agreed with a laugh. "Not directly."

"So what can I do for you, lassie?"

"Well," she said hesitantly. "When Erick originally broke his leg, I was the one who mended it. Because of …other obligations…well, anyway…for one reason and another, I was wearing my underwear of last resort. They were…uhm…well, unusual." She stopped, the color rising to make her cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

"Unusual in what way?" Scotty asked with a patient smile.

"I had gotten them from a friend. They were… a joke of sorts."

"Ahh…" he said. "In what way were these…special?"

"They have a built in…uhm…vibrator," she finally admitted.

"Like the _Radegast fjäril_," Scotty said knowingly.

"Precisely like that," she agreed. "I had never worn them until I was left with no alternative. That day that Erick broke his leg. When I activated the osteogenerator, it set off the _Radegast fjäril_."

"Ahh…"

"It was quite…an interesting sensation," she admitted quietly.

"Interesting," Scotty repeated with a smile.

"Yeah. Anyway, what I was wondering was - can you duplicate the frequency of the generator? So that I can…uhm…you know…."

"I do know," he agreed. "And I can."

"Will it be a lot of trouble?" she asked feeling ever so slightly guilty about even asking.

"Ach…no trouble a'tall, lassie. I ought to have it finished in two days time."

"Wonderful. I'll have it in time for shoreleave on VanHalen."

"Indeed," Scotty confirmed. "We still have a date to watch a movie on the spacestation?"

"Absolutely. How many chapters of _Salagsställnemgar_ have you gotten through?" she asked with a saucy wink when she stood to go.

"You don't mind me borrowing it, do you, lassie?" he asked, also standing and trying not to feel guilty about taking her book.

"Of course not," she assured him. "Have you gotten to _skirting meerkat_?"

"Not as of yet," he said, making a mental note to skip to that chapter. "I got as far as _counting pelican_."

"That's a personal favorite," she agreed with a very appealing giggle. "Maybe when we're on VanHalen, we can find a couple of new favorites."

"Why, Nurse Chapel, are you trying to seduce me?" Scotty laughed.

"Is it working?" she responded with her own warm laugh.

"You needn't try, lassie. You've already succeeded."

She giggled again and left his office, feeling his eyes on her as she walked away. She was beginning to think that maybe she didn't really need that new remote. When she reached her quarters, she learned that chatting with Scotty was nearly as pleasing and effective as a working _Radegast fjäril._


	23. May 23

**May 23**

_A/N: Hi! Thanks so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, stuck with me, during this Merry Month adventure. (Only eight days to go! Can you believe it?) This chapter is a little bit of a change of pace. Still about the same subject - just from a different perspective. _

_To those of you who are curious and/or have asked, I made up the sort-of version of the Kama Sutra that has been mentioned several times: The Salagsställnemgar. And the positions they have discussed (like patrolling zebra and reclining giraffe) - yeah, made those up too. So if you are interested in acquiring your own copy, I'm sorry. It doesn't exist. At least not in our time frame!_

_

* * *

_

_Sex: the pleasure is momentary, the position ridiculous, and the expense damnable. ~Lord Chesterfield_

_

* * *

_

_Why did I ever joined Starfleet? There were other places I could have escaped to. And why did I ever agree to be the Chief Medical Officer for that man-child who is __**Captain**__ of this crew of misfits? What was I thinking? And what was I thinking when I told him I'd do this seminar? Dammit – I'm a doctor, not a sex therapist. But would he listen? _No_. The head teenager of this crew of adolescents decided they needed "guidance" and fatherly advice. I'm not old enough to be their father. Well – Chekov maybe. Not the rest of them. And oh God – now I'm talking to myself. Captain Crazy's rubbed off on me._

All these thoughts were plaguing CMO Leonard McCoy as he stood in Observation Lounge Thrymr. It was the Enterprise's smallest observation lounge and as it steadily filled up, he wondered if they shouldn't have scheduled this in one of the largest ones. Well, no matter. In three minutes, he would start his seminar on Safe Sexual Practices – Just Because We Can Doesn't Mean We Should. That last part was Jim's idea. One Bones tried to talk him out of including but to no avail.

_Dear God why did I say yes when Starfleet asked me if I would remain Jim's CMO? Because he looked at me with those blue puppy-dog eyes? And said "please"? When did I become such a sucker? When this is over, I'm going to either kill him or me. Maybe both._

Pushing those random and semi-insane thoughts aside, Dr. McCoy stepped out of the corner where he had been waiting. NOT hiding. Simply biding his time until it was 13:00, the scheduled beginning of the seminar. The overflow crowd quieted down immediately when he stood beside the podium. Surely there were not this many members of the crew in need of guidance and fatherly advice. He was certain that some were there just out of curiosity. Jim hadn't made it an order to attend, but he had told the department heads that anyone under the age of 25 was strongly _encouraged_ to be present.

The 25 year-old-Captain stepped up to the podium, looking very official and, well, Captainly, McCoy thought. He could pull off "serious and authoritative" when he needed to and this was one of those occasions.

"We'll begin the seminar in a few minutes," Jim said in his very best 'I'm the Captain so don't even think of messing with me' voice. "Before we start, there are some ground rules we need to establish. We will have no immature behavior throughout the course of Dr. McCoy's lecture. Anyone who acts out will be put on report. Do not test my word on this," he said, looking stern and far more formidable than Bones had ever seen him, except on occasion when he was _negotiating_ with Klingons or possibly Spock.

"This is a safe environment. If you have a question, ask it. Dr. McCoy will do his best to answer. Nothing that is said within the confines of these walls will be repeated. And any who ignore this rule will be reprimanded. We are not here to gossip or be entertained. We are here to be informed." Jim looked out at the audience with his stern expression still in place, challenging anyone to doubt his words. "Do we have any questions before Dr. McCoy begins?"

A few of the hardcore smart-asses looked like they wanted to crack-wise but since Kirk was the King of the smart-asses and he was being all business, they wisely held their tongues.

"Very well. Dr. McCoy," Jim said, waving Bones to the podium. The Captain then sat in the lone chair facing the risers where he would have an unobstructed view of everyone in attendance. That would help ensure that they were on their very best behavior. At least for the length of the seminar. After that, all bets were off. Back to business as usual. God help them all. God did watch out for fools and children, right? And they had both in equal measures.

"While the adage 'if it feels good, do it' is fitting when it comes to sexual gratification," McCoy began, making sure he was using his best 'I'm the doctor here and I know what's best' voice (one that even occasionally worked on Captain Crazy), "there are some rules which you are absolutely required to remember and to follow. These are _rules_. They are _not_ guidelines to be lightly brushed aside in the throes of intimacy." He paused to make sure everyone was with him so far. The audience had appropriately serious expressions plastered in place so he thought he might be able to make an impression on them and their sometimes over-sexed brains.

"The first rule concerns cross-species intimacy. If you are going to copulate with a being outside of your species, take the proper precautions the first few times. Men – use condoms. Women – insist that he wear one. If you are physically able to join your bodies for procreation or recreation, odds are your biology is also compatible. But let's not take any unnecessary chances. Men, you don't want to come to me to seek treatment for fever blisters on your penis because evolution did not prepare you for copulation with someone outside of your species. Use condoms. If you determine that nothing dire will occur without them, fine. Still, _better safe than sorry_ is the best advice I or your mother could possibly give you."

That brought a low wave of chuckles from the audience, and he glanced down at his notes. "Condoms. Have them. Use them. Love them. They are free and freely available. We have all of the common bathrooms on this ship well supplied. Go in the gender appropriate bathroom and take as many as you want or need. No one will know if you use them. _I _will know if you don't.

"The second rule has to do with self-gratification. For reasons I have yet to determine, we have seen a recent increase in the number of crewmembers who have come to sick bay for treatment of injuries that are the result of over-enthusiastic self-pleasure. Again, if it feels good, do it. But use some sense, people. _And_ use lubricant. There is no excuse for the men on this ship to come to me with friction burns on their penises. Hand lotion. KY jelly. Vegetable oil. Vaseline. Although I don't recommend those last two because of the difficulties of clean up. But better Crisco than nothing.

"The women are more cautious but I have still seen more abrasions and irritations than usual. Women – wash your hands _before_ and after. And if you have long nails, be extremely careful.

"The third rule also concerns self-gratification. In specific, introducin' what we will euphemistically call _toys _into your personal play time. They are available in a universe of variety. But never, ever insert anything into an orifice if you cannot hold onto it. You're goin' want to use copious amounts of lubricant with the toys. Which means you may have a hard time keepin' a grip. Never use a toy that doesn't extend at least 6 inches outside your body. Our penises are firmly attached to our bodies for a reason – for insertion _and_ removal. If your toy doesn't extend 6 inches beyond the parameter of your body, please, for the love all that is holy, make sure it has a sufficiently wide base so that it cannot possibly become fully inserted. I do not want to be woken up ever again at 4 in the mornin' to make a fishin' trip up an orifice that is not intended to accommodate God-know-what that you decided would make an interestin' experiment. It doesn't. It will hurt. And I will not be pleased." He waited the necessary amount of time for that warning to sink in. He could see several of the guilty crewmembers shifting in their seats, the memory of their stupidity still fresh to them, and to him.

"If something happens while engaged in the act of intimacy, come to me immediately. _I-mme-di-at-ley_," he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. "Only work related injuries are reported to Command personnel. Ethics and Starfleet code prohibits me from discussin' personal-type injuries that result from carelessness or stupidity with anyone. _Any_ one. If said injury interferes with your ability to perform your responsibilities, I am permitted to notify your direct supervisor that you are incapacitated. Not why. Not what happened. Not that you were dumb enough to try and invent new sexual positions. Those injuries are between me, you, and your conscience. Which means you should not wait to seek medical assistance if you have hurt yourself while tryin' to master chapters 23 and 24 of the _Salagsställnemgar. _And yes it has happened. Take my advice. Skip _rambling red wolf_ **and** _repelling tortoise_. They sound fine in print. And the illustrations look plausible. You don't want to try to comm me so I can come to your quarters and untangle you from these positions. I'll do it but I won't be happy about it. Best we only peruse use those chapters and not try to emulate them." He paused again, making sure that he still had their undivided attention. He did.

Some of them were staring at him with eyes the size of saucers. Some were looking anywhere but at him, avoiding anything remotely close to eye contact. Those were the ones he had seen in the pants-around-ankles position with way more frequency than he'd care to recall. A few of the audience members were looking mostly at the Captain who was doing a remarkable job of looking stern. And almost disapproving. Nearly. But his reputation for free thinking in all aspects of his life was too well known for anyone to believe for a second that he hadn't been through the entire _Salagsställnemgar _multiple times, and could recite the positions and their intentions from memory. But to his credit, Bones had never once had to rescue Jim from any self-inflicted injury of an intimate kind. Unless you counted Vhnori Venereal Pox. But Bones believed him when he said the condom had malfunctioned. Any other information was _too much_ information and the hyposprays had taken care of his unfortunate encounter.

"While we are on Space Station VanHalen, I know that we are all relieved that we'll finally be allowed to take leave. I also know that VanHalen is considered a prime space station with its variety and abundance of _recreational_ possibilities. That being said, there is no reason that any member of this crew should have to come to me for treatment and repeat any of the following:

"_She said she didn't believe in condoms."  
"__It's perfectly safe to do it upside down."  
"__Nobody has ever gotten sick from it before."  
"__He said he's allergic to condoms."  
"__It's against the religious teachings of their species to practice safe sex."_

"If anyone you are interested in spending some quality time with says any of these things to you, leave. Don't think. Don't hesitate. Don't delay. _Leave_. Make up an excuse if it helps your conscience. Tell them the Captain suddenly needs your help recalibrating the Rube Goldberg Machine. Lie if you must. But get away from them." Looking out at those gathered ensured that that they had heard him. And maybe, just maybe, they would heed his advice and none of them would end up accidentally impregnated, sick with an as-yet-undiscovered strain of the Pox, or with dislocated shoulders and/or hips. Wouldn't that be a successful end to their up-coming shoreleave? And a pleasant change of pace for the medical staff.

"Now, that concludes the formal section of our discussion. I will open the floor to questions, providing they are appropriate and not asked simply to make your buddies smirk. Smirkin' is strictly prohibited as is gigglin', laughin', and/or hootin'. If you are not comfortable asking your question in this setting, I will be in my office most of the day tomorrow. You are, as always, welcome to come by and talk with me with complete confidentiality."

He waited and passively watched the audience as some of them gathered their courage. Some looked like they were ready to bolt but stayed where they were, stiff and unnerved.

"Ensign Steele," McCoy said, calling on one of the brave ones. "You have a question."

"Yes sir," she said, standing up. Which was quite courageous, Bones thought. "Would it be considered safe if a Human female were to engage in an intimate relationship with a non-Human female?"

"For the most part, yes," McCoy said. "If there is to be any penetration, caution is advised. And if other necessary precautions are taken, there is no reason that such activity cannot be safe and pleasurable for both parties."

Ensign Steele nodded and sat back down beside the _Aquan_ Ensign Maji, with whom Steele had been rumored to be visiting on a nightly basis.

There were several more questions of a general nature, all appropriate and seriously asked and answered. When no more questions were forthcoming, the Captain returned to the podium to thank them for their attention and participation before dismissing them.

When only McCoy and Kirk remained in the observation lounge, Bones looked at Jim who was grinning at him. "What?" Bones asked suspiciously.

"You did great," Jim said, pleased with himself and his best friend.

"I'm a doctor, Jim. It's my job," Bones said.

"You also hated this whole idea. You only did it because I wheedled you into it," Jim said with a laugh.

"Captains are not required to wheedle," McCoy countered, sounding for all the world like Spock.

"Yeah. But if you had out-and-out refused, I'd have honored that," Jim said.

"Now's a fine time to tell me," McCoy said, rolling his eyes. But Jim knew there was no true anger behind the words.

"So tell me about you and the beautiful Nyota," Jim said, his smile lighting his eyes in a familiar and dangerous way.

"There's nothin' to tell. We watched a couple of movies. When they were over, I went back to my quarters and she stayed in hers."

"You have another date?" Jim asked.

"There weren't _dates_, per se. More like two people watchin' the same movie at the same time," McCoy corrected, working very hard not to let the blush creep up over his cheeks. He was a grown man. And a doctor. He did NOT blush.

"I heard from Chekov who heard from Sulu who heard from Keenser who heard from Scotty who heard from Christine that they were _dates_. And you have another one planned already."

"Don't you have anything better to do than listen to idle gossip? Don't you have an entire starship to run?"

Jim just laughed at him, his arm slung casually across McCoy's shoulders. "Come on, Doctor Grumpy. I'll buy you a drink."

"You're on," Bones agreed, going back to Jim's quarters with him, to talk and drink and just be. Because sometimes it was good to _just be_. Especially with your best friend, even if he was on the wrong side of crazy.


	24. The Climactic Final Chapter  pt 1

**The Climactic Final Chapter - pt 1**

_A/N: Hi everyone. I really didn't fall off the face the Earth. It only felt that way (at least to me!) Real Life was...is...uhm... well, you didn't come here to read my tale of woe. Suffice it to say I haven't been as prolific recently as I had been. And I apologize. I had to skip an entire week in the Merry Month of May, even though I very much didn't want to. I had hoped to write, finish, and post the complete Final Chapter tonight but that wasn't to be. So here's part 1. With any luck, I'll have part 2 posted tomorrow. If not, we'll pretend that June 1 is May 32. Okay? Thanks!_

**Nyota & Leonard:**

_The prettiest dresses are worn to be taken off. - Jean Cocteau_

Nyota looked again at Leonard sleeping peacefully next to her, his thick black hair uncharacteristically mussed from their activities. And what fabulous activities they were. Wow. She would have never expected him to be so passionate, loving, attentive, _good at it_. She didn't generally compare lovers but there was a part of her who thought he might even beat Spock when it came to making love. Because up until tonight, Spock was without dispute the most talented partner she'd ever been with.

She smiled to herself as she remembered the progression of the evening. Leonard had come to her quarters precisely on time and had simply stood in the corridor, staring mutely at her when her door slid open. She had chosen the simple red dress on purpose. It showed off her curves and accentuated her best features, which Leonard had decided were all of them. Once he had found his voice, and belatedly his manners – _I am so sorry for starin', darlin' _– they had gone to the spacestation for a delicious dinner. She knew it was delicious as she was eating it but in retrospect she had no idea what she had ordered. All she could think about was Leonard's lips as he ate his pasta, his hands as he buttered first her bread and then his, his eyes as they gleamed in the candlelight. Good heavens but he was sexy. And the starched white button down shirt and dark trousers only emphasized his physical appeal.

When they had finished dinner, he hesitantly asked if she would be interested in staying the night on the spacestation rather than returning to the Enterprise. She managed to give a positive response without betraying the fact that she could barely stop herself from jumping him in the restaurant. If other members of the crew hadn't been eating there, she just might have taken advantage of him there and then.

Instead, they made it to the hotel on the station, securing a room that featured a Jacuzzi tub. They hadn't taken advantage of that amenity but she hoped very much that when they both woke up in the morning, he would be as interested in trying it as she was.

As she watched him sleep, his beautifully brown eyes fluttered open and he smiled at her. A warm, appreciative smile, crinkling his eyes.

"Hey," he said partially into his pillow. He reached one hand out and touched her cheek, reassured that she was really in bed next to him.

"Hey yourself," she returned, moving closer to kiss his parted lips. "You are adorable when you sleep." She watched his cheeks pink at her words and his eyelids close. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you," she said, kissing his warm cheek.

"I don't mind, Nyota," he assured her, looking up again at her startling beauty. "Been a long time since anyone called me adorable."

"That's too bad for them," she whispered. "Because you are. And hot. And sexy. And…."

"And?" he prompted, smiling again at her.

"Do you really want me to tell you?"

"I'm willin' to listen to anything you have to say, darlin'. As long as it's not 'get out.'"

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head. "If I was going to say anything else, it'd be that you are the best at it. Better than I ever had before."

"Cause I know where are the parts are?" he teased.

She laughed at him, shaking her head again. "Not just where they are. What they are for. How they can be used. Wow."

"Thank you kindly, ma'am," he said, raising up on one elbow to better see her. "You show promise in bed as well."

"Promise?" she huffed indignantly, shoving him.

"If I said you were perfect, we'd have no excuse to try it again," he said reasonably.

"Oh. Well. In that case," she said, leaning closer to kiss him soundly. "You ready for the next lesson?

"At your service, darlin," he agreed, returning her kiss and rolling on top of her.

~o0o~

**Sulu & Chekov:**

_The only unnatural sex act is that which you cannot perform. ~ Dr. Alfred Kinsey_

Sulu slowly turned over, smiling as he did. He was barely awake and knew it was still the middle of the night. The lateness, or the earliness, of the hour did nothing to diminish the happiness he was feeling. Happiness that he was not sleeping alone in the very large, very comfortable bed in which he was nestled. Next to him, finally, was Pavel Chekov. He had finally found the nerve to ask Pavel to spend the night with him, the entire night. And Pavel had agreed.

After dinner at a restaurant on the station, they had agreed to rent a room at the hotel. They didn't linger over their meals – too many other members of the crew also taking advantage of the delicious food. They had noticed Dr. McCoy and Lt. Uhura at another table, but those two had eyes only for each other.

When they had arrived inside the comfortable room, Hikaru could feel Pavel's nervousness. He didn't want to risk embarrassing him by asking him too many questions. But that was strange in and of itself. There had to be a middle ground, where they would be able to talk openly and honestly without causing either of them to simply die from embarrassment.

"Come and sit," Hikaru had invited, settling on the couch in the sitting room. Pavel accepted the invitation, sitting on the opposite end from Sulu. Chekov couldn't seem to meet his eyes and Sulu searched for something appropriate to say. Was it always this awkward? They were friends, for goodness sake. Best friends. Why were they suddenly rendered speechless around each other? This was ridiculous. "You know," Hikaru finally said into the uncomfortable silence. "We are rarely together when we aren't talking a mile a minute."

"Da," Chekov agreed, exhaling and glancing up at Sulu. "I do not know vhy it is that I am so nervous."

"I think it's natural, Pav. We are considering, well, planning to take our friendship to a new level. Right? I mean. That's why we're here, right?"

"That is vhat I am hoping," Pavel agreed. "I am vanting to be more than your friend."

"Me too," Hikaru agreed. "So I think feeling…well, weird is natural."

"You think?"

"Yeah. We don't need to do or say anything of the regular things, like if we were on a date. Because we already date. Sort of."

"Da," Chekov agreed with a nod. "Vhat I really vant is…. Well."

"What, Pav? What do you want?" Hikaru asked, inching down the couch toward him.

"You," Pavel whispered, looking at Hikaru, a mix of hope and terror on his face.

"You have me. Don't you know that?" Sulu asked, finally close enough to kiss Chekov very softly on the lips.

"Da," Chekov sighed, the word creating puffs of air to caress Sulu's mouth. "You have me."

"I like to think so," Hikaru said, his right hand gently stroking Pavel's cheek. "You want to stay here or go into the bedroom?"

"Bedroom," Chekov requested shyly looking at Hikaru. Sulu nodded standing and going toward the large room, Pavel just after him. When they were inside the bedroom, Sulu gently gathered Chekov in his arms and hugged him. His hug was returned, Chekov pressing his body up the slightly larger, slightly stronger one. "You feel very good."

"Thanks," Sulu laughed softly, kissing him, the passion and force increasing as their mouths joined and tongues explored. Sulu slipped one hand beneath Chekov's shirt, stroking his back, skin to skin. Chekov leaned into the touch, emboldening Sulu to explore further. That same hand caressed Pavel's rounded, tempted backside, skimming over the jeans that covered him.

"More," Pavel requested, pressing even tighter up against Sulu. "More, 'Karu."

Sulu nodded in understanding, his hand entering the back of Pavel's jeans, Chekov gasping softly at the touch.

"Da," Pavel whispered, reaching down for his own button. As quickly as he could without putting too much distance between them, he opened his jeans and wiggled them down so they pooled at his shoe tops. "Now yours."

Sulu took advantage of the fact that Pavel was not wearing anything beneath his jeans to touch his exposed and beautiful ass, rounded and warm and perfect. And as he touched Pavel, his jeans were also opened to fall on top of his shoes. When Pavel began to touch him, mirroring the touches he was receiving, Sulu wasn't sure how long he could hold it together. It was even better than he had thought it could be. "Oh Pav," Sulu moaned into Pavel's neck.

"It is good," Chekov agreed, kicking off his shoes and stepping out of his jeans. Sulu followed his lead until they both stood half naked and fully ready.

"Bed," Sulu said, discarding his tee shirt and going with Chekov to tumble onto the soft and inviting bed, limps tangled, hands everywhere, mouths exploring. And even though Chekov had no previous experience with making love to…well, anyone he finally confessed, Sulu discovered he was an appreciate, active participant in everything Sulu suggested.

And when they had discovered what they enjoyed the most – just about everything they tried – they had fallen asleep, still tangled together, as much of their skin in contact as possible. Because now that they had crossed the divide from friendship to something much more, neither of them had any desire for the divide to stand between them ever again.


	25. The Climactic Final Chapter  pt 2

**The Climactic Final Chapter – pt 2**

_A/N: Well, my lovelies, this is it. This is the final installment of Merry Month of May, being uploaded here on May 32nd! It's been a hoot. Now that this story's done, I'll have more time to focus on other WIP - of which I have plenty, I'm afraid. Thanks for sticking with me, through all the Merry days of May!_

_~o0o~_

_**Scotty & Christine Chapel**_

_We are no guiltier in following the primitive impulses that govern us than is the Nile for her floods or the sea for her waves. ~ Marquis de Sade (Aline et Valcour)_

_

* * *

_

Scotty knew that even though he was officially on shoreleave, he really did need to try and get some sleep. Shoreleave for him was inherently different from most if only because he adamantly refused to allow the "experts" on the spacestation to meddle with his ship without his approval and his direct supervision. Which meant he'd need to be at the office of the station commander by 0900. In less than 7 hours.

He had to smile as he glanced once more at Christine sleeping next to him, her blond hair spread on the pillow like a halo. That was an apt description for her. Angelic in looks. But, he had discovered, with a untamed side to her that had delighted him in ways he had never expected. He wasn't exactly a novice when it came to the bedroom but her willingness and sense of adventure was utterly amazing. In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have been quite so surprised because he had seen the chapters of her copy of _Salagsställnemgar _that were clearly personal favorites. They were now his favorites as well, especially _parading Platypus. _Who knew?

They had gone to the station movie theater where it turned out there was nothing playing that either of them were interested in seeing. So they instead went and had a leisurely dinner, chatting about nothing in particular, except maybe those members of the crew who were also taking advantage of the delicious _real_ food that was available at the restaurant. He finally had broached the subject of spending the night on the spacestation and she had readily agreed. 'They have Jacuzzi tubs,' she had said with great enthusiasm, a sentiment with which he whole-heartedly agreed.

He had requested a room with such a tub, trying to disguise his surprise when he heard Dr. McCoy make the same request. Christine and Nyota were busy whispering and giggling so he knew they were discussing their similar requests. He wasn't sure he wanted to know that Nyota knew that they would be enjoying the Jacuzzi tub but there was nothing to be done. The women were thick as thieves at any rate and kept no secrets from one another.

When Scotty inadvertently caught Dr. McCoy's eye, the doctor simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged, taking Nyota by the hand to escort her up to the room he had secured. Scotty was fairly certain that Chris had told Nyota to be sure and come see her the next day but that was something else he tried very hard to pretend he didn't know.

Christine and Scotty had gone up to their room, finding it plush and comfortable and oh-so-decadent. A dream come true for an overworked chief engineer and a tireless angel of mercy. Christine suggested that the tub was too good to allow it to stand empty for even one more minute, practically dragging Scotty into the bathroom behind her. Not that he was especially resistant to the idea. But things were progressing just a tad faster than he had anticipated. He supposed that made him old-fashioned but if Chris had no inhibitions, why should he let any residual shyness on his part slow things down?

Getting into the spirit of things, helped along with liberal amounts of scotch, he allowed her to assist him in removing his clothes, returning the favor. As he helped her disrobe, he felt like he was opening a Christmas gift, all bright and shiny and brand new. Silly, he knew. But _fine_. Very very _fine_ indeed.

Many kisses were exchanged as they shed their clothes and made their way to the tub that was filling with steaming water, the jets inviting and exciting them in equal measure.

"Have you ever done it in a Jacuzzi?" Christine asked when they were submerged. She was astride his lap, facing him in order to continue kissing him. She was an excellent kisser, he decided, reaching up for one more – just to make sure.

"I haven't, lassie. You have?"

"I have," she giggled, kissing him again. "I'm really not as…uhm… wild as I'm sure you think by now. It's just that…well…I finally have you right where I want you."

"You have me?" he asked as he nibbled on her neck.

"Oh yeah," she breathed. "I've had my eye on you since the Captain first smuggled you on board. Doctor thinks you're even crazier than Jim but I know it's not true."

He laughed at her words, capturing her mouth. "How d'ya know that?" he asked when they could both speak again.

"I know. That's all. You are kind and selfless and smart. Really smart." She kissed him again, reaching between their slick bodies to find him ready for her. "Can I have this?"

"It's all yours, lassie," he assured her, sliding a little lower on the shelf-seat-ledge to provide a better angle of entry.

They ended up practically flooding the bathroom floor but from the number of available towels in the closet, the hotel was well aware that it was likely to happen. After mopping up, slowed considerably by kissing and touching and more kissing, they finally made their way to the bed, pausing long enough to christen the couch, protecting it with a left over, _dry_ towel. They had standards, after all. And the medically trained part of Christine didn't fancy having their exposed flesh where others may have already been, Scotty agreeing completely.

By the time they made it to the bed, they were pretty spent, and were content to lay curled up, chatting about more of nothing important. Christine told him what it was really like to work so closely with Dr. McCoy, confirming what Scotty had long suspected – that beneath the gruff exterior lay a heart of gold.

Scotty talked about the side of the Captain few outside of the command crew ever experienced, Chris not surprised at the depth of the man they all knew mostly on the surface only.

They talked and talked until they both ran out of words. Scotty remained awake, content to lay and watch his angel sleeping next to him. And he knew when she woke, she'd put her halo aside to again convince him that it had been her idea for them to seek refuge in the comfort of the hotel. And he was content to let her believe it. Maybe she'd let him convince her to give _spinning lion _one more try.

~o0o~

_**Jim & Spock**_

_The sex was so good that even the neighbors had a cigarette. ~ Woody Allen_

_

* * *

_

"Jim," Spock said, rolling on his side to better see the man sharing his bed, the man with the amazing blue eyes, the brownish-blonde hair, and the smile that would melt icebergs. It had already melted Spock's heart. There was no telling what other damage it might do.

"Yeah," that same man answered, smiling the most dangerous of smiles, his eyes a deeper shade of mysterious blue.

"May I ask you a question?" Spock said, knowing the foolishness of asking to ask a question by…well, asking a question.

"Of course you can. Although you could always wait until we're bonded then you'll find out where all the answers are," Jim said, blue eyes sparkling dangerously.

"Being bonded does not grant permission to delve into the secrets of one's mate," Spock said, the soft tone making the words less harsh.

"So I can't go searching through all your secret fantasies to find the one I'd like most to try?" Jim teased.

"You only have to ask to learn those," Spock assured him.

"Good to know. What did you want to ask me?"

"How many sexual partners have you had?" Spock asked. Even as he said the words, he still wasn't sure he wanted the answer. But Jim's experience was vastly greater than his own. From a purely scientific perspective, he needed to know how much greater, quantitatively.

"Why?" Jim laughed. Spock was relieved by the laughter, afraid he would anger Jim with the question.

"My experience has been very limited," Spock said, hoping that was enough of an answer.

"It's not a contest," Jim assured him, closing his eyes for a moment. "13."

"Oh," Spock said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"You thought it was more, didn't you?" Jim asked knowingly, the smile still threatening to melt the last of Spock's Vulcan reserve.

"I… could not imagine what the number might be," Spock said.

"But if you were to guess, you would have said a lot more."

"Yes," Spock said, almost embarrassed by his answer. "I apologize."

"You don't have any reason to," Jim assured him. "My reputation as a man-whore is well known, even to me. There was a time it bothered me. Not any longer."

"You have done nothing to rectify those incorrect assumptions."

Jim shrugged one bare shoulder at that. "Wouldn't do any good. Protesting too much never helps. And people will believe what they believe. I like to flirt. Or I did," he corrected, looking at Spock. "If people think I bed anything with a pulse, I'm not going to be able to change that. Except now they'll know the only person I have any interest in bedding is right here, right now."

Spock nodded at that answer, shifting closer to kiss Jim's smiling lips.

"Anything else you want to know about my semi-sordid past?"

"Not at the moment," Spock said, mesmerized by the fact that Jim was actually in bed with him. After wanting him to be for so long a time.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to make love to you?" Jim asked in a lazily sexy voice, echoing Spock's own thoughts.

"I have no facts on which to base a hypothesis," Spock said, rewarded with Jim's laugh.

"Do you want to know? Are you curious?"

"All scientists are by nature inquisitive."

"Why do I feel like I'm back in a lecture hall at the Academy?" Jim laughed.

"I cannot form a hypothesis for that query either."

Jim laughed again, shaking his head. "I've wanted to make love to you since the first time I saw you."

"When I had you brought up on charges?"

"Yeah," Jim agreed with a smile. "I figured if I succeeded in seducing you, you'd lighten up some."

"I see. And have I?"

"You aren't nearly the hard-ass you want everyone to believe," Jim said knowingly. "I fell in love with you when you asked if I had chosen a First Officer yet."

"At that instance?" Spock asked, slightly breathless.

"Probably before that. But I wasn't willing to let you break my heart. I was afraid you'd go to Vulcan II so I refused to admit I cared. When you submitted your candidacy to be my First Officer, I knew it was safe to let my heart be in charge," Jim said, the words coming easily, soothing an ache Spock didn't know he had been feeling until it was gone. Jim loved him. Had always loved him. While it wasn't a surprise, it was most definitely a relief. "You thought I was only interested in your body?" Jim laughed.

"No. I was unaware of the depth of your feeling," Spock admitted.

"I know. And I'm sorry."

"You have done nothing for which you need apologize," Spock assured him. "I was equally hesitant to broach the subject with you."

"Because you thought I was too busy sleeping with the crew."

"I never believed that," Spock said, shaking his head. "You are too honorable to do so."

"I never thought I'd hear you describe me as honorable," Jim said with a smile.

"Another error on my part," Spock admitted, kissing him.

"So," Jim said, pulling his knees under him so that he could raise up enough to really see Spock.

"So?" Spock echoed, studying his Human's bare body with an expression verging on worship.

"If I were to discover, purely by accident, one of your secret fantasies, what would it be?" Jim asked, his right hand caressing Spock's chest and making it hard for him to think.

"I have no idea," Spock said, not caring about fantasies. Jim was there. That was fulfillment enough for one Vulcan's lifetime.

"What about _mingling puffins?" _Jim suggested in a seductive whisper, made all the more tempting by the teasing kisses he was barely giving to Spock.

"If it would please you," Spock responded, Jim laughing and laying on top of him, kissing him thoroughly and completely.


End file.
